


If All Else Fails

by enigmaticblue



Series: If All Else Fails [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 69,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Technically, it’s known as Operation Phoenix, but that’s a little too optimistic for Jack, who calls it the WAFGON plan: We’re All Fucked; Get Out Now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Over the Rhine song, “Latter Days”

_“As far as I remember, Operation Phoenix was first formulated during my third or fourth year on SG-1. We’d almost been invaded a couple of times, so Jack—then Colonel O’Neill—and General Hammond decided that it would be a good idea to have an escape hatch. We knew that if an invasion were successful, SGC personnel would be the first ones targeted. The idea was to get key military assets and their families off-world so that they could, in turn, work to free earth. Jack liked to call it the WAFGON plan—We’re All Fucked; Get Out Now. That probably gives you a little taste of Jack’s sense of humor.”_

 

~ Interview with Daniel Jackson

 

Sam glanced up as Cameron Mitchell entered her lab. “Hey. Did you have that meeting with General O’Neill?”

 

“You could say that.” He gave her a sharp look. “You knew what he was going to say?”

 

“We all got the same briefing. The general recently updated it to take Atlantis into consideration.”

 

Cam shook his head. “Sam—”

 

“Let’s go out for a drink,” she suggested. “We don’t want to discuss this here.”

 

In truth, Sam would rather be with Jack, but he’d told her that he was going to spend some time with Daniel and Teal’c, and he was aware that Sam had known Cam since their days at the Academy. Sam had a connection with Cam that the rest of them didn’t.

 

And Jack had a certain proprietary interest in Cam; he trusted Sam to look after him.

 

“I could stand a beer,” Cam admitted.

 

“Let me get changed.”

 

Thirty minutes later, Sam slid behind the wheel of her car wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blazer. Cam was dressed much the same way, and he slumped in the passenger seat of Sam’s Volvo with his head hanging down.

 

“You knew about this.”

 

Sam heard the accusation in Cam’s voice, and she winced. “Since my third year on the team, when they first started putting the plan together.”

 

“How the hell do they expect us to abandon ship?” Cam demanded.

 

Sam gave him a sideways look. “The same way they expect us to do six impossible things before breakfast, Cameron. If we’re given an order, we follow it.”

 

“Except when we don’t,” Cam shot back. “I’ve got family here, Sam.”

 

“So do I, and like me, you get to make a list,” Sam replied, pleased when her voice held steady. “If the SGC can get them out, they will.”

 

Cam barked a laugh that held no humor. “Do you know how _much_ family I have? I’ve got—shit. My parents, my brother, his wife, their kids—there’s no way the SGC can get them all out.”

 

“No, there’s no way,” Sam agreed. She thought of Mark, and his wife and kids, but she counted herself lucky that she had so few people to leave behind. If her team made it out, if Jack made it out, if they could get Cassie off-world—that would be enough.

 

It was harder for people like Cam, who didn’t have a wife and kids, but had a lot of other family. He had so much more to lose.

 

Cam shook his head. “No way I can do that. How am I supposed to choose? If I make that list—”

 

“You’ll bear the guilt.”

 

“Yeah.” Cam stared out the window, the darkness broken up by streetlights and the occasional neon sign as Sam headed deeper into Colorado Springs. “What if I don’t do it?”

 

Sam flicked her turn signal on to turn into O’Malley’s. Enough time had passed since SG-1 had gotten kicked out that it was unlikely she’d be barred from entering. Besides, Cam had never been to O’Malley’s, and they had the best steaks and beer in town.

 

“If you don’t make the list, you don’t have to choose,” she said as she pulls into a parking spot. “But Cam—the list is more about who can be used against you.”

 

“It’s about the people I can’t afford to lose, you mean,” he replied bitterly.

 

Sam sighed. She’d forgotten what it was like to be so naïve, to believe that hard choices could be left to someone else. Sam had made her list for the first time after Janet had been killed, wanting to be sure that Cassie would be covered. By the time Operation Phoenix had been put into place, her dad had been part of the Tok’ra, and Sam hadn’t been close with Mark in years.

 

Jack and her team were already designated as military personnel to send off-world.

 

They sat in the car, and Sam silently cursed Jack for leaving her to pick up the pieces. “Yes. It’s about whom you can afford to lose, Cam. Anyone who’s going to be a weakness needs to go on that list, whether you like it or not.”

 

“And we follow orders, like it or not.”

 

“That’s what we signed up for.”

 

Cam rubbed his eyes. “I don’t think I signed up for _this_.”

 

“You heard Jack,” Sam snapped. “This is a WAFGON plan. If all else fails, this is the plan we follow. We’ve never had to use it before.”

 

Cam shot her a look. “Jack, huh?”

 

“General O’Neill,” she corrected herself.

 

It was too late, though, and Cam smirked. “Thought that might be what’s going on. That’s why you didn’t want to come back to SG-1, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, it was a hell of a lot easier to hide our relationship when I wasn’t going off-world all the time,” Sam remarked sourly.

 

Cam grinned for the first time since he’d stumbled into her lab. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

 

He was teasing, but he was sincere, too. Sam knew that he would keep her secret, and she knew he’d think about what she’d said.

 

Cam was a good soldier, and he’d follow orders.

 

“It had better be,” she replied finally. “I know lots of place to hide the bodies.”

 

Cam grinned. “Yeah, I’ll just bet you do.”


	2. Independence Day

“ _I knew something had changed when we got the second batch of people. Those who came to Atlantis with the first wave were some of the best in their fields, but we didn’t quite fit in, you know? A lot of the soldiers were too young and green to know that it was a one-way trip, and as smart as the scientists were, most of them didn’t have anybody keeping them on Earth. But with the second wave—we started getting a lot of experienced field officers, people who didn’t look at Atlantis as their last chance. Even before we got General O’Neill’s message, I knew Earth was viewing Atlantis differently._ ”

 

~Interview with John Sheppard

 

The alarm sounded for an unscheduled gate activation, and Elizabeth strode out of her office to the control center. “Chuck?”

 

“Unscheduled off-world activation,” Chuck confirmed as the seventh chevron encoded. He paused, and then said, “Eighth chevron encoding. It’s from the Milky Way galaxy.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Do we have an IDC?”

 

“No, ma’am. Radio transmission only.” Chuck’s fingers flew over his keyboard. “It’s General O’Neill. He asks that we confirm transmission.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Did we get it all?”

 

Chuck said, “Yes, we’ve got the file.”

 

“Send confirmation.”

 

“Confirmation sent.”

 

As soon as Chuck spoke, the wormhole shut down. “Wormhole disengaged.”

 

“Let’s see General O’Neill’s message,” Elizabeth ordered.

 

Chuck frowned. “It’s marked for your eyes only, Dr. Weir.”

 

“Can I view it in my office?”

 

A few keystrokes, and Chuck handed her a flash drive. “It should be on there, ma’am.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Elizabeth didn’t hold any illusions—the fact that O’Neill had sent a message marked for her eyes only, and hadn’t sent anything _but_ the message, suggested that something had gone very wrong.

 

She watched the video once through, and then a second time, before she tapped her radio. “Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, I need you in my office immediately.”

 

She paced as she waited for them to join her. As was typical, she heard Rodney long before she saw him. “I’m just saying that if I designed an intelligence test that new personnel had to take before they were even hired, we might get fewer idiots.”

 

John’s drawl was indistinct, but Rodney was still talking as they entered. “Seriously, I think we should at least weed out the people who can’t follow simple instructions.”

 

In spite of the news she’d just received, Elizabeth smiled. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

 

“Nothing we can’t handle,” John promised.

 

Rodney sniffed. “The team we sent to map out the east pier entered a lab after I _specifically_ told them that doing so could get them—and a lot of other people—killed.”

 

“They got curious and ignored protocols,” John confirmed. “It won’t happen again.”

 

“No, it won’t, but I’d rather it not happen in the first place,” Rodney grumbled.

 

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

 

“Early morning PT for the Marines involved,” John confirmed, his eyes glittering. “With Ronon and me. They aren’t going to enjoy it.”

 

“And the desalinization tanks need to be cleaned,” Rodney added. “If that doesn’t get the message across, the sewage treatment system could use a good scrubbing.”

 

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She would much rather hear about how John and Rodney planned to torture their minions into following the rules than deal with the ramifications of the message that had just come in.

 

“I just received a message from General O’Neill,” Elizabeth said. “I want you two to see it.”

 

John and Rodney both stiffened, apparently scenting trouble. “How bad?” John asked succinctly.

 

Elizabeth shook her head. “Judge for yourself.”

 

She turned her monitor around, and while Rodney dropped into a chair across from her desk, John remained standing. Rodney leaned forward, watching the screen intently as it flashed the warning “For Dr. Weir’s Eyes Only.”

 

John glanced toward her, but neither of them said anything as General O’Neill began to speak. Elizabeth didn’t need to watch the monitor—she focused on John and Rodney’s expressions.

 

“Dr. Weir, this will probably be the last message you get from me,” O’Neill began. “As you know, the war against the Ori isn’t going well, although we could probably deal with that. The real problem is the Trust. They’ve infiltrated the highest levels of government. The SGC has lost fifteen people in the last two weeks, either through ambushes off-world or mysterious circumstances here on Earth.”

 

O’Neill paused. “I still have friends, and I’ve been told that arrest warrants are being issued for most of the top-ranking SGC members, and they’re going to try to take control of the gate. The list includes most of the command staff on Atlantis, as well as the officers stationed out of Cheyenne Mountain. I’m pretty sure they got to Landry, because he seems to be on board with all of this.

 

“SG-1 is off-world, and has been for the last few days. All of their names are on the list, as is mine. Those of us still here are going to avoid arrest for as long as we can. We’ve still got a few teams off-world, and I’m holding the gate open until we can contact them if possible. And at that point, I’m going to shut down the gate to keep the Trust from gaining control.”

 

During O’Neill’s message, Rodney’s expression grew progressively more horrified, his mobile mouth turning down at the corners, and his eyes widening. In contrast, John’s face grew stonier, until he seemed frozen with tension.

 

“I doubt we’ll be able to send any ships your way,” O’Neill continued after long pause. “We need them too badly for the defense of Earth, and the crews aren’t on the list. Earth can’t do without them, and I think the Trust knows that. My best guess is that the Trust wants to cement their position here before the Ori come knocking. I don’t know why they think they’ll do a better job.”

 

O’Neill drew an audible breath. “So, consider this my last act as Director of Homeworld Security, Dr. Weir. Do _not_ accept any incoming wormholes from the Milky Way. All personnel escaping through the gate are under orders to make their way to Pegasus with all good speed, and not to dial Atlantis until then. Anyone who does make it, do whatever you need to do to make sure they aren’t a plant.

 

“The WAFGON plan is a go, Elizabeth. Good luck.”

 

The message stopped, and Elizabeth turned her monitor around, waiting for John or Rodney to break the silence first. John walked over to the window to look out at the gate room, while Rodney stayed where he was, his hands clenching and unclenching on his thighs.

 

“WAFGON?” Rodney finally asked.

 

“We’re all fucked, get out now,” Elizabeth explained, her mouth twisting ruefully. “General O’Neill filled me in the last time we were on Earth.”

 

“Why weren’t we told?” Rodney demanded.

 

John spoke before Elizabeth could, keeping his back to both of them. “Because O’Neill was hoping it would be a moot point. Elizabeth got read in because Atlantis was supposed to be a safe haven, but he wouldn’t have told us because we didn’t need to know.”

 

“Didn’t need to know?” Rodney demanded, his voice rising.

 

Elizabeth held up a hand to stave off a rant. “The only people who knew about Operation Phoenix were those who might need to make use of it, Rodney. We’re the escape hatch, so we weren’t informed.”

 

“Except that _you_ were,” Rodney replied bitterly.

 

“I _am_ in charge,” Elizabeth shot back, hearing the anger in her own voice.

 

John cleared his throat. “Whether we were told or not, it doesn’t change the reality of what we’re facing now. So, what are we looking at?”

 

“Officially, this means we’re an independent colony,” Elizabeth began. “Assuming General O’Neill’s assessment of the situation is correct, we won’t be able to rely on any other supply runs. We’ll need to barter for food and other supplies and set up as many treaties and alliances as we can, as soon as we can.”

 

Rodney’s expression grew steadily more panicked as Elizabeth spoke. “Seriously?” he demanded. “We’re supposed to just—be okay?”

 

“We were okay for the first year,” John snapped, turning to face them.

 

Elizabeth had noticed that the two men had been increasingly short tempered with each other recently, and she hoped they could work past it.

 

“Oh, yes, _fine_ ,” Rodney said scathingly. “We were nearly overtaken by the Wraith. If the _Daedalus_ hadn’t shown up when it did, we would have been completely fucked.”

 

“I was handing it,” John replied.

 

“ _By riding a nuke into a hive ship_.” Rodney sneered at him. “Yes, suicide is _handling_ it.”

 

“Enough,” Elizabeth glared at each of them impartially. “We’re alone out here, gentlemen, whether we like it or not. What’s more, we’re likely to have company coming as SGC teams make their way here.”

 

“We’ll deal with it,” John said quietly. “We’re in much better shape now than we were a year ago. We’ve got friends here, and we’ve already established trading partners. When do we break the news to everyone else?”

 

Elizabeth found herself grateful for John’s stoicism. Rodney always got the job done, and he worked well under pressure, but if John freaked out it would be in private.

 

She needed that impassivity right now.

 

“What are your recommendations?” Elizabeth asked.

 

“I think we should tell Teyla and Ronon immediately,” John replied. “Trade agreements are going to become that much more important.”

 

Rodney nodded, all business as he began to work the problem. “We need to tell the heads of the other departments—Carson, Zelenka, the rest. We need lists of supplies, things we can’t do without.” Rodney snapped his fingers. “We’re going to need ZedPMs, Elizabeth. Now, more than ever. With more power, Atlantis may be able to give us everything we need.”

 

John finally sat down, slumping in his chair. “Command staff first, then we tell the rest in stages. We should get Teyla to identify a few more Athosian guides. We could really use them, and we don’t have to worry about the SGC vetting process now.”

 

“I agree,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll need all the help we can get.”

 

“So, when?” Rodney asked.

 

“Teyla and Ronon tonight, and the department heads tomorrow morning,” John suggested. “That will give us a little time to come up with suggestions so we can have something concrete.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Do you want to handle it?”

 

John rose. “Yeah, no problem.”

 

Rodney got to his feet a little more slowly. “I’ll just, uh, go with Sheppard.”

 

“I’ll send an email to the command staff to announce the 10 am meeting,” Elizabeth said.

 

“We’ll be there.” John turned sharply on his heel and strode out. This time, if Rodney was talking, he kept his voice down.

 

Oddly enough, Elizabeth liked it better when Rodney was shouting.

 

~~~~~

 

John tapped his radio. “Teyla, Ronon, I need you to meet me in McKay’s lab pronto. Drop what you’re doing and get moving.”

 

“You _knew_ about this,” Rodney hissed as they headed for the nearest transporter.

 

John shook his head. “Not now, McKay.”

 

“Yes, now,” Rodney snapped. He stabbed the button on the transporter panel. “You didn’t think this was something I needed to know?”

 

John waited for the transporter doors to slide shut before he responded. “Look, all I knew was that they started sending officers—good officers. You do that when you’re building a base.”

 

“You think that’s why they sent Lorne.”

 

“I’ve got four majors, seven captains, and twice as many lieutenants,” John replied. “I’ve got a couple of platoons of Marines, and enough non-commissioned officers to make up half a dozen gate teams and still leave the city well defended.”

 

“So, what you’re saying is that you didn’t know about the plan, but you did know that they might use Atlantis as a refuge.”

 

John shrugged. “I knew it was a possibility, McKay. Think about it. The people who came on the first wave were volunteers, and most of us didn’t have anything or anyone tying us to Earth.”

 

“I’ll have you know that the only person who _might_ know more about wormholes and gate travel than I do is Carter!” Rodney exclaimed, grabbing John’s arm and stopping him in the hallway outside his lab.

 

“Yeah, you’re important, McKay. Everybody on this expedition is. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone, at some point, decided that we were expendable.”

 

Rodney scowled. “So you think. And you still didn’t tell us that you knew something was coming?”

 

“What do you want me to say?” John demanded. “Nobody wanted it to come to this! Why scare people unnecessarily?”

 

Rodney glared at him. “Because it would have been nice make a few more preparations, even if only to stock up on coffee.” He led the way into his lab, where Miko and Zelenka were working. “All right, everybody out!” Rodney ordered. “Go find something to do somewhere else. Or, you know what, take the rest of the day off.”

 

Zelenka raised his eyebrows. “Are you unwell, Rodney?”

 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Rodney said. “I just need the lab. Empty. Now.”

 

Miko didn’t need any further encouragement; she scurried out, taking a tablet with her. Zelenka gave Rodney a sharp look. “This does not have anything to do with Dr. Weir calling a meeting tomorrow, does it?”

 

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Rodney shot back. “Get out of here, Radek.”

 

Zelenka rolled his eyes and turned to go, but John called, “Dr. Z, take the rest of the day off, okay? It might be your last chance for a while.”

 

Zelenka nodded, his mouth turning down in grim lines. “Then I will see you both at the meeting tomorrow.”

 

The door slid closed behind Zelenka, but opened a minute later to admit first Teyla and then Ronon.

 

John didn’t have the first clue where to begin. Teyla had experienced a taste of Earth when they’d been on M5S-224 with the mist creature, but neither she nor Ronon called Earth home. The news that Earth and the SGC had fallen to enemies within and without wasn’t going to have the same impact it would on the rest of the expedition.

 

“What’s going on, Sheppard?” Ronon asked as the first to break the silence.

 

John crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Elizabeth got a message from Earth—O’Neill is locking out the gate.”

 

Teyla’s eyes widened with alarm. “Earth has fallen?”

 

“Remember what happened with Caldwell?” John asked. "The infiltration went deeper than we thought. Locking out the gate on Earth is the only way to prevent the Trust from doing more damage here.”

 

Ronon frowned. “What exactly does that mean?”

 

“We’re now an independent colony,” Rodney stated flatly. “Everything we need, we’re going to have to trade for. We can’t expect anything from Earth.”

 

“What can we do?” Teyla asked immediately.

 

“We’re going to need more guides, Teyla,” John replied. “Do you know of any Athosians who would be willing to help out?”

 

“Certainly,” Teyla replied. “I can have a list ready by tomorrow.”

 

“I know of some planets that have stuff,” Ronon added.

 

John took a deep breath. “Good. We’ll need all the information we can get before the meeting tomorrow. We’re breaking the news to the rest of the command staff before we tell everybody else.”

 

Teyla stepped forward, placed her hands on John’s shoulders, and brought his forehead to rest against hers. “Anything you need, John.”

 

He echoed her movements. “Thanks.”

 

She did the same for Rodney. “You have family on Earth?”

 

“Most of us do,” Rodney admitted. “It’s going to be hard.”

 

“Hard” doesn’t even begin to cover it, John thought. The first year had been bad enough; they had been alone on Atlantis, but there had been no reason to believe that Earth had fallen, no reason to think that they _couldn’t_ go back, if they only had the power.

 

Now, they had to worry about building an independent colony, about the various SGC teams that might somehow make their way to Atlantis, about their families left behind at the mercy of the Trust or the Ori.

 

John figured if he didn’t think about it, he might be able to get through the coming days.

 

~~~~~

 

Teyla understood loss. She knew what it was like to leave one’s home behind, to have everything she had built crumble. She also understood that such a loss was too much to take in all at once, and that hard work could be a balm to the spirit.

 

She went to the conference room early, hoping to catch Elizabeth before the others began to arrive. Elizabeth sat at the head of the table, her head resting in her hands and her shoulders slumped.

 

“Dr. Weir?”

 

Dr. Weir straightened. “Teyla. Hello. I didn’t see you there.”

 

“I was sorry to hear the news about your home world. You have whatever support I can offer.”

 

Elizabeth’s smile was brittle. “Thank you. I know the next months will be difficult, but if we all work together—”

 

Teyla sat down next to her and covered Elizabeth’s hand with her own. “Elizabeth.”

 

Elizabeth stopped and took a deep, hitching breath. “Did John tell you that the President has put our names on a list of people to be arrested? When—if we return to Earth, we will be imprisoned at the very least.”

 

“Then you must stay here,” Teyla said gently.

 

“Yes, I suppose we must. It was different when we chose to stay on Atlantis, but the idea that we _can’t_ go back…”

 

“It is difficult to have one’s home taken by force.”

 

Elizabeth winced. “Of course you would understand. I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t be sorry. You and your people have done much for us.” Teyla gave her hand a final squeeze. “We’re happy to help.”

 

Elizabeth’s smile was a little more genuine this time. “Thank you.”

 

John slouched into the conference room, his eyes shadowed. He nodded at Elizabeth and Teyla and poured himself a cup of coffee. “We’re going to need to find a coffee substitute for the scientists, or we’re not going to be able to live with them.”

 

“And by scientists, you mean Rodney,” Teyla said with a smile.

 

John smiled, but the humor was missing from his eyes. “I mean Rodney.”

 

“What about me?” Rodney demanded, bustling into the room.

 

John’s smile turned sardonic, and he took a seat at the other end of the table. Teyla recognized the strategy. By providing another focus, he offered Elizabeth a reprieve. “I was just saying that we need to find a coffee substitute.”

 

“We haven’t found one yet,” Rodney grumbled. “I’m pretty sure that Zelenka and I have enough in our personal stashes to last us for a couple of years if we don’t share. Which we’re not going to do, since the fate of the city rests on our shoulders.”

 

John snorted, but quickly turned it into a cough. “Sure, McKay.”

 

Rodney plopped down in the chair next to John with his own cup of coffee. “I’m serious. Caffeine is an important element of us being able to do our jobs, Sheppard.”

 

“I believe you,” John replied, hiding a smile behind his coffee cup. His smile faded quickly as the room filled up with the rest of the command staff. Ronon took the seat next to Teyla, and Lorne sat at John’s right hand. Zelenka filled in the seat next to Lorne, and Dr. Beckett sat across from him. Sergeant Stackhouse represented the noncommissioned officers.

 

Chuck slid into an available seat, and Elizabeth nodded at him. “We received a transmission from Earth yesterday from General O’Neill. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay have already seen it, and I believe the rest of you also need to be aware of its contents. Chuck, play it.”

 

Teyla split her attention between General O’Neill’s message and the others around the table. John and Rodney were stoic, and Teyla could see Elizabeth’s wisdom in allowing them to view the message before anyone else. This way, the three of them could present a strong front.

 

Although Teyla didn’t know General O’Neill, she could hear the strain in his voice, the undercurrent of fear as he spoke of the members of the SGC already off-world who would hopefully make their way to Atlantis. When the message ended on a blank screen, everyone in the room was silent.

 

“Then we cannot return to Earth.” Dr. Zelenka was the first to speak.

 

“No, we can’t,” Elizabeth confirmed.

 

Major Lorne cleared his throat, the muscle in his jaw working. “So, we’re just going to—let it go? We’re not going to try to help?”

 

John shook his head. “I know this is going to sound crazy coming from me, but we have our orders, Major. In this case, our mandate is clear. We’re to provide shelter to any members of the SGC who make it to Pegasus, and eventually, to provide a staging platform to retake Earth as the opportunity arises.”

 

Some of the tension left Lorne then, and he sat back in his chair. “So, this is temporary.”

 

“We hope so, but there’s no guarantee of that,” Elizabeth said. “As of receipt of this message, General O’Neill was going to lock out the Stargate. Even if we could go through the gate to Earth, we would be arrested or shot on sight.” She offered a thin smile. “Most of your names are on that list.”

 

Rodney sent John a look that Teyla could not read, although she suspected it had something to do with one of their ongoing arguments. “We’re the best of the best. Of course we’re on the list.”

 

Everyone around the table smiled or rolled their eyes at Rodney’s typical arrogance, but it provide a much-needed break in the tension.

 

“I realize that we all have family and friends on Earth,” Elizabeth said. “We’re all worried about those we left behind. I know this is a shock. But we really don’t have a choice. I think we all knew that there was a possibility that we might end up on our own out here.”

 

Silence followed her words, although everyone around the table eventually nodded.

 

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “Teyla, you were going to make a list of possible guides.”

 

“Of course, Dr. Weir,” Teyla replied smoothly. “There are approximately eight men and women from among the Athosians who have approached me in the past about serving as guides. I believe they will still be willing.”

 

“Ronon?” Elizabeth prompted.

 

“Yeah, I know of a few worlds,” Ronon replied. “Here’re the addresses.” He pushed a piece of paper down the table towards Elizabeth.

 

She smiled. “Thank you, Ronon. Do you know of anyone who would be willing to serve as a guide?”

 

Ronon shook his head. “Didn’t really make friends. The Athosians would know better.”

 

Elizabeth looked at Teyla. “What do you need?”

 

“A ride to the mainland would be helpful,” Teyla responded. “I can leave whenever you’d like.”

 

“I can take you,” John said.

 

“Thank you, Colonel,” Elizabeth said. “I need inventories from everyone. We have to know where we stand before we can figure out what we need. With that in mind, however, I want a list of needed items—things that we absolutely cannot live without, and a timeframe for when supplies are going to become critical. And I want those inventories by this time tomorrow.”

 

“When are we going to tell the rest of the city?” Dr. Zelenka asked.

 

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I will be sending a copy of the video to each of you. Each department head is in charge of telling their people, but I would encourage each of you to share the video within the next couple of days. We can try to keep this quiet, but news travels fast around here.”

 

“Lorne, Stackhouse, have everyone assemble for an 8 am meeting tomorrow morning,” John ordered. “I want all military personnel, no excuses.”

 

“Same here for scientists,” Rodney added. “We’ll do it at the same time. That should keep the worst of the rumors under control. Radek, order the minions to get their inventories done today. You can tell them I’m being an unreasonable asshole.”

 

“And this is different than your usual behavior, how?” Dr. Zelenka muttered.

 

Rodney glared, although Ronon grinned broadly and John smirked. “I might be an asshole, but I am rarely unreasonable,” Rodney said with dignity.

 

“Okay, people,” Elizabeth said, although there was a smile playing around her lips. The sniping was so commonplace that it put everyone at ease. “Dismissed. John, Teyla, would you stay?”

 

The others filed out, and Teyla watched as they stuck close together. She knew that fear and uncertainty often served to bind people together, if it did not drive a wedge between them.

 

“I wanted to talk about our understanding with your people, Teyla,” Elizabeth began.

 

“What understanding?” John asked, sounding rather testy. “We’ve had a relationship with the Athosians since we got to Atlantis.”

 

Elizabeth gave him a cool look. “We were constrained by our relationship with Earth, John. We’re in a very different position at the moment.”

 

Teyla asked smoothly, “I’m assuming you want to talk about what I may offer on behalf of Atlantis.”

 

“You know our position here, Teyla, as does Colonel Sheppard. I trust you to know when a request is more than we can comfortably meet.”

 

Teyla hesitated, and then asked, “If you’ll forgive me for asking, Dr. Weir…With this new development, how will Atlantis be governed?”

 

Elizabeth rose, rubbing her hands against her pants. “I’m not certain. The activation of Operation Phoenix means that Atlantis is an independent entity, but from what I understand, we may choose our own form of governance.”

 

“Why do we need to change anything?” John asked uncomfortably. “We operated on our own for a year under the current command structure. There’s going to be enough upheaval without trying to redo everything.”

 

“I would tend to agree,” Elizabeth admitted. “For now, everything will remain the same. We’ll address the issue again later, once we have our feet under us.”

 

Teyla nodded. “I believe that Halling will be satisfied with that answer. As long as my people know with whom they’re dealing, we won’t have any trouble moving forward.”

 

“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself tightly. “Thank you, Teyla.”

 

Teyla knew when she’d been dismissed. “Let us know if you need anything.”

 

John trailed out after her. “You want to leave right away?”

 

“We can probably have lunch with Halling if we leave immediately,” Teyla responded. “Assuming that is acceptable.”

 

“Great,” John replied. “Let’s get moving. I’ll let Lorne and Rodney know.”

 

Teyla didn’t try to speak to John while he was on the radio. She was grateful for the chance to be alone with him; she knew that John wouldn’t reveal anything about how he was feeling with others present.

 

John had finished his calls by the time they reached Jumper One and he’d plopped down in the pilot’s seat.

 

“John.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said as he prepared for launch.

 

“Major Lorne had a point. Earth is your home. You’re not the kind of person for whom that is meaningless.”

 

John glared at her. “Atlantis is my home, Teyla.”

 

“And it’s just that simple?”

 

He stared out the ocean that now stretched out before them. “No, it’s not that simple, but you heard General O’Neill. My job is to protect the people on Atlantis, maybe the people in Pegasus. I can’t afford to worry about Earth. I just—you have to draw the line somewhere. Right or wrong, that’s the line I’m drawing.”

 

“I don’t fault you for that. I agree with you. But I also thought you might want to talk about it.”

 

When John shot her an incredulous look, Teyla offered a sly smile. “I believe you would say, ‘can’t blame a girl for trying.’”

 

John smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, we probably would. Thanks.”

 

“Some of the others will have a difficult time drawing the line,” Teyla pointed out.

 

John shook his head. “If you’re thinking about Lorne, yeah. Like I was trying to explain to Rodney yesterday, the folks who’ve come out here in the last year have a lot more ties to Earth. They’re people the SGC would miss, people who didn’t think of this as a one-way trip.”

 

He paused and added, “They’re not wrong, you know. If the Trust or another organization wanted to put pressure on us, the best way would be to go after family members.”

 

“I believe Rodney has a sister,” Teyla said. “But you’ve never spoken of your family.”

 

“I have a father and a brother,” John admitted. “But my _family_ is here.”

 

Teyla smiled. “Thank you, John.”

 

John hitched one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s true.”

 

Teyla decided that she would allow John to have the last word this time.

 

~~~~~

 

Major Evan Lorne felt shell-shocked as he filed out of the conference room with the others, much like he had after the first mission gone south with SG-1.

 

“Major!” Stackhouse called. “I’m nearly done with the quartermaster’s report. You’ll have it on your desk by the end of the day.”

 

Evan knew he should be grateful; it was one less thing he needed to worry about. Inventory was a thankless task, but Stackhouse had served as the quartermaster for the last year without complaint.

 

On the other hand, Evan had kind of been looking forward to throwing himself into work, even if it was just counting up how many boxes of ammo they had.

 

“Good work,” Evan said. “Thanks. Do you know how many teams we have off-world?” Evan asked, although he was fairly sure he already knew the answer.

 

Stackhouse thought for a minute. “Just one, and they’re due to come back in a couple of hours. Should I try to call them back early?”

 

“No, let’s keep it business as usual until tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll send out the announcement about the meeting, sir,” he replied. “It won’t take long.”

 

Evan nodded. “Thanks.”

 

“Hey, I’m sure your family is going to be okay.”

 

Stackhouse had family on Earth, too, if Evan remembered correctly. Parents, siblings, the whole nine yards. “Yours, too,” Evan finally replied.

 

Stackhouse nodded and offered a reassuring smile. “Our families aren’t a part of the Stargate program, and we’re way out in the Pegasus galaxy. Why would anybody target them?”

 

Evan nodded. “No reason at all.”

 

He said it as much to reassure Stackhouse as himself, although Evan agreed with the sentiment. Still, the question echoed in his head after Stackhouse had left, and Evan had gone back to his office.

 

There really was no reason to target family members of the Atlantis expedition. Chances were pretty good that the Trust would ignore Atlantis and hope that the Wraith finished them all off. Since the Wraith had very nearly done just that during the first year they’d been in Pegasus, it wasn’t too far-fetched.

 

He tried to lose himself in work, but after he’d sent out an email to the military personnel, Evan didn’t have much left to do. He made it through most of a requisition form before he realized there was no point. There was nowhere to send it. Even if Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir wanted to keep everything business as usual, there was no point to three-quarters of the paperwork Evan routinely filled out.

 

Evan rubbed his eyes, and memories of those he’d left behind filled his mind. He’d been back to San Francisco before shipping out for Atlantis, staying with his sister and her family, and spending as much time with his parents as possible.

 

 _“What the heck are you doing, Evan?” Emily had asked during that last trip. “You never talk about work, and while I know you’re stationed out of Colorado, you’re not there most of the time.”_

 _“It’s classified, Em,” he’d replied. “I can’t tell you anything.”_

 _She’d bumped him with her shoulder in reply. “Sorry. I know better than to ask. Just tell me—are you saving the world like you always wanted to do?”_

 _He’d grinned in response. “Yeah, I think I might be.”_

 

Memories of those he knew at Cheyenne Mountain followed and hit hard. He’d left a lot of friends behind; he’d jumped at the chance to be second-in-command of a base in another galaxy. On Atlantis, he had his own team, and a hell of a lot more responsibility. If something happened to Sheppard, Evan would be in charge until relieved.

 

But now, with reinforcements from Earth out of the question, _Evan_ would be military commander of Atlantis if something happened to Sheppard. That was a different situation entirely, and if Evan were a praying man, he’d be pleading for Sheppard to stay in one piece.

 

When Evan finally broke out of his reverie, it was after 1 pm, and the alarm was sounding. Evan headed for the gate room, and was relieved to see Roberts’ team come through, looking none the worse for wear.

 

Evan’s stomach rumbled, but he took the time to check in with Roberts and send the team to the infirmary for a post-mission medical before heading to the cafeteria.

 

He was operating mostly on autopilot when he entered the mess, which was no longer serving lunch. Evan grabbed a sandwich and a piece of fruit from the table. Evan didn’t remember what Teyla had called the fruit, but it was a bit like an apple—tart and sweet with crisp flesh and firm skin.

 

Evan had made it through half his sandwich and had polished off all but the core of the fruit when Dr. Zelenka slid into the seat across from him.

 

“I could use your help in the lab, Major,” Zelenka said without preamble.

 

Evan frowned. “Doc, I don’t think—”

 

“I have items to test, and if you don’t have anything else to do, I could use a light switch.”

 

Evan nearly refused, but he couldn’t think of a legitimate reason. Stackhouse was finishing up the inventory, and the notification for the meeting had already gone out. He didn’t have anything better to do.

 

“Sure,” Evan finally said. “Why not?”

 

“Dr. Weir did say that she wanted to keep everything copacetic,” Zelenka continued. “And Colonel Sheppard was scheduled for this afternoon.”

 

Evan gave a philosophic shrug. Sheppard had taken enough of Evan’s shifts in the lab that Evan didn’t mind returning the favor. Than again, Evan was pretty sure Sheppard just liked hanging out down there so he could irritate McKay.

 

“No problem,” Evan replied. “I would have thought you’d have inventory to do.”

 

Zelenka gave Evan a sharp-edged smile. “What else do we have minions for? That, and we did inventory just two weeks ago for the _Daedalus_ run.”

 

Evan smiled in reply. “You know the saying—shit rolls downhill.”

 

Zelenka chuckled. “That, my friend, is the truth.”


	3. On the Run

_“I guess you want to know where I was when I found out, huh? We’d been stuck on P9X-680 for about a week. SG-9 had made contact there previously, and there hadn’t been any problems. When we showed up, we walked right into a Goa’uld ambush and spent a week being interrogated. We kept waiting for the SGC to ride in to the rescue, but no one ever showed up. When we finally did break out, the gate to Earth had already been locked out. Cam was the one to stumble across the message. If Jack hadn’t sent that bottle through, we probably would have tried to make our way back to Earth, and most likely would have been killed.”_

 

~Interview with Samantha Carter

 

The boom of explosives shook the gate room. Jack just managed to keep from flinching. “Dial it up, Walter!” he called.

 

There weren’t many people left at the SGC; Jack had sent most of them through the gate with instructions to keep moving so the Trust couldn’t catch up to them. Other than SG-1, there were three teams still off-world and out of contact, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

 

Hell, he couldn’t even risk leaving the planet to save his own hide. Someone had to throw the Trust goons off the scent.

 

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asked Caroline Lam.

 

Caroline shook her head. “Yeah, I’m sure. They’ll need doctors, and I don’t even want to think about what the Trust has in store for me if I’m captured.” She raised her eyebrows. “And on that note, are you sure you want to stay behind?”

 

“Someone has to plug the holes,” Jack replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

Caroline gave him a hard look. “If you’re captured—”

 

“That’s why you’re going to go somewhere else as soon as you get where you’re going.” Jack shrugged off her concern. “I’ll evade capture as long as I can, but it would be better if you kept moving.”

 

“Are you sure?

 

Jack shook his head. “If they know I’m on Earth, they’ll chase me instead of the rest of you.”

 

Caroline put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Good luck, General.”

 

“You, too,” Jack replied. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

 

“I look forward to it.” Caroline turned and walked through the wormhole without a glance back over her shoulder. The half dozen officers who hadn’t been turned, and were still alive, had already gone through.

 

“Walter?” Jack called. “You’re next.”

 

“No, sir,” Walter replied. “I’m staying.”

 

Jack knew better than to argue with that kind of self-sacrifice. “Thanks, Walter. Start the next dial. P9X-680 first.”

 

He glanced towards the row of beer bottles. He’d made sure they were rinsed and dried, the labels torn off. All he had to do was send them through the wormhole to each of the worlds where he had a team still missing. With any luck, the message would reach SG-1.

 

Jack just wished he could have included a personal message to Sam.

 

The wormhole whooshed to life, and Jack rolled the first bottle through.

 

~~~~~

 

“Sam.”

 

Sam tried to shrug off the hand shaking her awake.

 

“Sam!”

 

She blinked her eyes open. “Huh?”

 

“We’re leaving now.” Vala’s smudged face hovered above her. In the dim torchlight, the contrast between the dirt and pale skin were even more obvious.

 

Sam felt as though she’d closed her eyes a moment ago, soon after the guards had brought Vala back after the latest interrogation. The last thing she remembered was putting an arm around Vala’s shoulders and holding on tightly while Vala trembled. Sam certainly hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but as exhausted as she was, it wasn’t a surprise.

 

“Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized in a whisper, sitting up on the thin straw pallet. The dank chill seemed to have seeped into her very bones, making her sluggish. “We’re good to go?”

 

Vala nodded. “Cam and Teal’c are taking care of Daniel. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m good,” Sam insisted.

 

Vala nodded and pulled a couple of bobby pins out of her hair. Sam had no idea how Vala had managed to hang on to them during the past week, but she was grateful for it.

 

They had each been interrogated separately, and maybe that was for the best, Sam thought. She found it easier to endure pain than watch her friends suffer; it was bad enough to watch the guards drag Vala back to the cell, to see Vala’s bruises and know that her clothing probably hid more.

 

It was worse to know that even though the guards had pushed Sam hard, they had taken a special interest in Vala.

 

Vala worked the bent bobby pins carefully in the lock as Sam crouched by the door, ready to spring into action if the guards proved more attentive this late at night than they had in the past. The lock clicked, and Vala eased the door open an inch or two.

 

Sam pressed her face to the crack, peering out to look for guards. “Okay,” she whispered.

 

They crept out as quietly as they could, pulling the door closed behind them with a gentle snick. Vala touched Sam’s arm and led the way down the hall.

 

Sam watched Vala’s back as she picked the lock on the guys’ cell door. When it swung open, Cam immediately stuck his head out. “Coast clear?”

 

“For now,” Sam assured him.

 

Cam emerged from the cell first, with Teal’c following close behind, supporting Daniel. “Do you know where they have our stuff?” Cam asked, in a whisper so soft as to be almost inaudible.

 

“There’s an armory,” Vala replied, leading the way past guttering torches.

 

Sam kept an eye out for guards, but the hallway was deserted tonight. They’d worked out the timing for the change of shift over the last few days—slowly, painfully, but they’d worked it out.

 

The armory was at the end of a long hall. Sam heard voices as they approached the half-open door, and she exchanged a look with Cam.

 

Cam held up three fingers, and Sam confirmed with a nod. She could make out three distinct voices speaking in Goa’uld, and she watched as Teal’c transferred his hold on Daniel to Vala.

 

After their first escape attempt, Daniel had been the main target of their guards’ anger, and he’d been badly beaten. Daniel’s breathing was labored, his face bruised and swollen, and he cradled his left arm against his chest. Vala’s face was lined with pain as she supported him, but she hung on with grim determination.

 

Sam hadn’t known quite what to make of Vala before this mission, but there was nothing like a week in the same prison cell to foster camaraderie.

 

Cam held up three fingers again and began a silent countdown.

 

The fight wasn’t even close to being fair, which was one of the reasons they’d tried to wait for rescue after they’d been recaptured. Sam had expected the cavalry to arrive days ago—hell, she’d thought it possible that Jack would be leading the charge. But one day had bled into the next, and it had quickly become obvious that no one was coming for them.

 

Cam managed to hold his own against his Jaffa; his time with the Sodan warriors had definitely given him an advantage. Teal’c quickly gained the upper hand, but Sam’s guard got a good shot in to her already-bruised ribs. She hissed out a breath and doubled over, only half-faking the pain. Sam saw the Jaffa raise his arm to strike her down, and she grabbed for the zat hanging at his side.

 

The fact that she managed to grab the weapon and stun her opponent, and then Cam’s, was the first piece of luck they’d had since getting captured.

 

Everything the guards had taken from them was accounted for, and they shrugged into the tac vests quickly, settled their packs into place and clipped on their weapons. Vala assisted Daniel, since he couldn’t manage it one-handed, and Vala brushed a hand over Daniel’s unbruised cheek.

 

“All right, gang,” Cam said, his voice hoarse and lacking its usual irrepressible cheer. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

 

Their luck seemed to be turning, because they didn’t see any guards on their way out. In the pre-dawn hours, no one was moving around, and while Sam wasn’t about to let her guard down, she began to believe they might actually escape.

 

They were halfway to the gate when she heard shouting behind them, and she ducked as an energy blast flew over her head.

 

“Fucking snakeheads,” Cam muttered from just ahead of her, sounding a hell of a lot like Jack in that moment.

 

God, she missed him.

 

They ran as fast as they could, Vala and Teal’c supporting Daniel, with Cam in front and Sam bringing up the rear. Sam half turned to fire her P-90 at the pursuers. Cam dropped to one knee in front of the gate, laying cover fire for them.

 

“Daniel, phone home!” Cam ordered, his face lit up by weapons fire.

 

There wasn’t much cover around the gate; the best they could do was to keep firing and hope Daniel could dial out before they all got shot.

 

Sam was peripherally aware of Vala, shielding Daniel with her body as she fired his P-90, and of Teal’c, firing his staff weapon with rapid precision.

 

“Uh, guys!” Daniel called. “It’s not working!”

 

Sam spared a moment to glance over her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Did the DHD get hit?”

 

“The symbols are lighting up, but I’m not getting a lock on Earth.” Panic was starting to creep into Daniel’s voice, the way it almost never did anymore. Sam heard him frantically punch the buttons. “It’s not working!”

 

Sam felt more than a little panicky herself. “Try again!”

 

“I’m trying!” Daniel shouted back.

 

Sam could see the Jaffa bearing down on them, and she was suddenly certain that she’d rather die than go back to that cell. One look at Vala, and Sam knew the other woman felt the same way.

 

Whatever their orders had been, the guards had become rougher the last couple of days, their questions more desultory, their hands more insistent. Sam hadn’t been sexually assaulted, not yet, but she’d known it was coming.

 

She suspected that Vala had already been raped; Sam had seen the looks the guards had leveled at the other woman, and she saw the desperate fear on Vala’s face now.

 

Vala shoved Daniel aside and began dialing.

 

“Where are we going, Vala?” Cam asked.

 

“Somewhere safer than here,” was Vala’s terse reply, and the wormhole whooshed to life.

 

Cam ordered Sam through with a jerk of his head, and Sam didn’t waste time arguing. She came out the other side, feeling a sense of relief as she stumbled through the gate into full daylight.

 

She was trembling with fatigue and hunger and pain, but she kept the muzzle of her weapon up, waiting for the rest of her team to come through the event horizon. Vala and Daniel were first, followed closely by Cam and Teal’c. The wormhole closed behind them, and Sam realized that Cam had been firing with one hand, and was holding a dark brown bottle in the other.

 

“Vala? Where the hell are we?” Cam asked, looking around the sunny meadow.

 

Sam saw a couple of butterflies floating by, and beyond that trees and rocky hills. She breathed deeply and smelled warm grass and flowers and damp earth. It was a little taste of heaven after the last week.

 

“It’s a world I’ve used in the past for a safe haven,” Vala explained, keeping an arm around Daniel’s waist. “There are two villages that I know of, but they’re each at least five kilometers from the gate. There’s an extensive cave system less than a kilometer away, however, and I have a supply cache there. I chose it because there was no Goa’uld presence on this world.”

 

“How long since you’ve been here?” Sam asked.

 

“Awhile,” Vala replied. “So, I’d feel better if we were under cover.”

 

“Shouldn’t we try dialing Earth again?” Daniel suggested, his face pale and his eyes a little glassy. He was probably sick, Sam thought. Maybe illness, maybe infection, but it wasn’t good.

 

Cam strode over to the DHD and began dialing. Sam heard each symbol locking, and then felt harsh disappointment when nothing happened.

 

“Good to know it wasn’t just me,” Daniel finally said, earning a weak chuckle from everyone other than Teal’c.

 

Cam took a deep, audible breath. “Okay, then, we follow Vala. Everybody good to go?”

 

“We will be fine.” Teal’c spoke for all of them.

 

“Lead the way, Vala,” Cam ordered wearily.

 

“What have you got, Cam?” Sam asked.

 

Cam held up the bottle. “I don’t know yet. Looks like a message in a bottle. We’ll check it out when we get some cover.”

 

Sam felt another stab of fear. There weren’t many reasons she could think of that someone would send through such a primitive communication, and paired with the fact that they hadn’t been able to dial Earth…

 

She didn’t like the conclusions she was drawing.

 

Teal’c had taken Daniel’s weight, and he half-supported, half-dragged Daniel through the lush green meadow, which quickly gave way to dense underbrush. There might be a path through the forest, but they weren’t on it, and they did their best to minimize evidence of their passage.

 

Vala led the way, moving stiffly but confidently, and Sam was suddenly and overwhelmingly grateful that they hadn’t lost Vala when she’d stymied the Ori’s attempt to build a supergate. It had been a near thing, and almost pure chance that they’d intercepted the matter stream before the ha’tak had been destroyed.

 

Another piece of luck maybe, Sam thought. If Vala hadn’t been with them on this mission, Sam wasn’t sure that any of them would have been able to come up with a viable alternative to Earth so quickly, injured and shell-shocked as they were.

 

In the past, there had always been Earth. If they escaped, if they managed to evade capture, there had always been the knowledge that they could go _home_.

 

When Vala came to a halt and began scrabbling at dead brush, Sam and the others stopped and stared before moving to assist. Sam didn’t think she’d have been able to find the cave if Vala hadn’t known exactly where they were going.

 

Cam dug in his pack for a glow stick, which he broke and tossed into the cave as soon as the opening was clear enough.

 

The cave was just big enough for the five of them. There wasn’t a lot of extra room by the time they’d crowded inside and covered up the entrance again. Sam knew that they all smelled a little ripe; none of them had been able to clean up in the last week. She suspected that she would have found it a lot more overwhelming if she hadn’t spent the last week in a cell that smelled of mold and human waste. At least the cave itself held only the scent of earth and each other.

 

Vala spared a glance for Daniel and then went over to check the cache of supplies that were stacked against the back wall. “Not much for food, I’m afraid, but I have several weapons, and a few changes of clothing.”

 

“I doubt you’ve got anything in our size,” Cam offered dryly.

 

Vala shot him a quick grin. “No, but I do have a few things that we might use to trade.”

 

“Cam?” Sam called. “The message?”

 

Cam held up the bottle, which had almost certainly held beer at some point in the past, but in the dim light of the glow stick, she couldn’t be sure. Cam stuck a finger inside and wiggled it around, trying to fish out the message.

 

“I’m not having any luck here,” Cam admitted.

 

Teal’c held out a hand. “Let me have it, Colonel Mitchell.”

 

Cam handed it over, and Sam flinched when Teal’c smashed it against the cave wall. Teal’c fished out the piece of paper and shook off the glass shards. He glanced down at the note, and then, to Sam’s surprise, handed it to her.

 

The light from the glow stick was too dim to read the scrawled words, not when Sam was already so exhausted. Cam rummaged in his pack and came up with a flashlight, which he held over her shoulder.

 

Sam blinked back tears when she saw the familiar handwriting and took in the meaning of the words. She cleared her throat and read, “Campers, the WAFGON plan is a go. Do not—I repeat—DO NOT return to Earth. There are warrants out for your arrest—dead or alive. DO NOT dial Pegasus from the Milky Way; they have orders not to open their gate if you do. I’m closing down Earth’s gate, and maybe I’ll take a few of these SOBs with me.”

 

The letter was signed, _J.O._ , and that was it. __

Earth had fallen. They couldn’t go home. Stunned silence filled the cave.

 

Daniel was the first one to break it. “What do we do now?”

 

He sounded so young in that moment. So much like the young man Sam had met a decade ago. Sam knew it was pain and illness speaking, and she felt a spike of fear. If they couldn’t find a doctor—if they couldn’t take Daniel back to Earth…

 

“Right now, we patch each other up and get some sleep,” Cam said wearily. “We’ll figure the rest out tomorrow. Sam, Vala, how are your tretonin supplies?”

 

They’d all started carrying the drug after an off-world mission that had gone on too long. After nearly losing Teal’c, the whole team carried tretonin in their packs, as well as sewn into the hems of their uniforms.

 

“They didn’t find mine,” Sam said.

 

Vala offered a grim smile. “They didn’t find mine, either. I estimate that we have perhaps two weeks worth, perhaps more.”

 

“I will take first watch,” Teal’c offered. “If I take a dose now, I can stay awake.”

 

Sam could see the battle on Cam’s face, and he met her eyes. “Sam?”

 

“We need sleep,” she offered apologetically. She knew that she wouldn’t last much longer. Now that the adrenaline rush from their escape had worn off, Sam was crashing hard.

 

Cam nodded. “Yeah, okay. Everybody but Teal’c sleeps. Teal’c, wake us up in a few, okay?”

 

“Of course, Colonel Mitchell,” Teal’c replied in that implacable tone. Sam knew that meant Teal’c would wake them when he felt like it, and not one moment sooner.

 

Sam looked over at Daniel. “What do you need, Daniel?”

 

“Ah, maybe some morphine?” he suggested, his voice faint. “The pain is pretty bad.”

 

Vala leapt into action. “How bad is the wrist?”

 

“It’s broken. Cam and Teal’c wrapped it,” Daniel replied.

 

Vala found the first aid kit in her bag. “Can you feel your fingers? Can you move them?”

 

Daniel wriggled his fingers in response. “No nerve damage,” he assured her.

 

“Very well, then. Let’s get you knocked out.”

 

Vala bustled around Daniel, and Sam felt her eyes growing heavy. She wanted to stay awake, and she wanted to be sure that Daniel was going to be okay, but she didn’t think she could stay awake much longer.

 

“Sleep, Colonel Carter,” Teal’c murmured from somewhere to her right. “I will keep watch.”

 

And she slept, unable to do anything else.

 

~~~~~

 

Daniel awoke with panic clawing at his throat.

 

“Easy, Jackson,” Mitchell said from above him. “Easy, buddy. Just lie back.”

 

“Where are we?” he asked.

 

“We’re in a cave on some world Vala found. I don’t know the name of it, and I’m not sure she does either,” Mitchell replied. “How are you feeling?”

 

Daniel had to think about the question. Slowly, painfully, memories from the last week began filtering back—the mission to P9X-680, the discovery that one of the Goa’uld system lords had created a base, their capture, the torture, their escape attempt, more torture, their actual escape.

 

His wrist still ached abominably. His ribs hurt so badly he could barely breathe. He was too hot, too sweaty, his skin and scalp itched, and Daniel could feel how swollen his face was.

 

“I feel like I’ve been beaten by a couple of Jaffa for the last week,” he finally said.

 

A brief smile flashed across Mitchell’s face. “Yeah, that’s about the sum of it.”

 

“Tell me I just imagined the news that Earth has fallen,” Daniel said.

 

Mitchell shook his head. “Wish I could.”

 

“Where are the others?”

 

“Teal’c went hunting, and the ladies went to trade at one of the villages. They were the best off of all of us.”

 

Daniel frowned. “How bad?”

 

“We haven’t had a chance to debrief yet,” Mitchell replied, which didn’t tell Daniel anything. “So far, we’re all in one piece.”

 

Daniel frowned. “That doesn’t tell me much.”

 

“I don’t know much,” Mitchell admitted with some of his usual cheer. “How bad are you feeling, Daniel? I need to know.”

 

“I’m not sure,” Daniel admitted. “I hurt.”

 

“Where?” Mitchell asked. “And before you say ‘everywhere,’ keep in mind that I need specifics.”

 

Daniel sighed and thought about how much he should say. “My wrist, my ribs, and my face, in pretty much that order.”

 

“That’s what I thought,” Mitchell admitted. “What else?”

 

“I itch.”

 

“Vala said she knew of a lake or pond near here. I think she and Sam headed over there this morning before they trekked to the nearest village. If you’re feeling well enough, we’ll ask Teal’c to lead the way when he gets back.” Mitchell paused. “Until then…”

 

He helped Daniel drink from a canteen and then helped him outside to take a leak.

Daniel supposed he probably ought to be grateful that he wasn’t pissing blood. “Doesn’t look like I’ve got any kidney damage,” Daniel grunted as Mitchell helped him back inside the cave.

 

Mitchell grimaced. “Good thing, because we don’t have much in the way of medical help, not cut off from Earth like we are.”

 

“Can I see the note?” Daniel asked. He wanted to see Jack’s message for himself; he wanted to see if he could discern a message between the lines.

 

Mitchell handed him the piece of paper, and Daniel looked over the words. There was nothing, Daniel thought. There was only the knowledge that _this_ was the last resort.

 

Daniel had been there when Jack and General Hammond had first come up with Operation Phoenix; he knew what its activation meant.

 

“Daniel?” Mitchell asked softly.

 

“We’re fucked,” Daniel murmured. “Jack wouldn’t have—he’d never have sent this if there was any other choice. If there was even a chance of success, Jack would have called us back, and asked us to help him. This is…”

 

“This is ‘we’re all fucked, get out now,’” Mitchell supplied. “Yeah, I got that.”

 

Daniel rubbed his right eye. His left was still half-swollen and bruised. “How bad is it, Mitchell?”

 

“If we hadn’t had Vala’s resources, we really would be fucked,” Mitchell admitted. “I don’t know how Sam and Vala are doing, to be completely honest. Something happened, but they won’t say what it was, just that they’re glad to be free.”

 

Daniel only half-remembered Vala’s expression from the day before—was it only a day? He remembered looking at her and knowing that she wouldn’t be taken alive again, that she’d eat a bullet first.

 

He felt a pang. He didn’t think Vala would have stuck around but for him, which meant that she wouldn’t be here now but for him.

 

“Do you think they…” Daniel trailed off. He’d heard the guards talking, particularly about Vala, and he knew what they _wanted_ to do to her; he just wasn’t sure they’d done it yet.

 

Daniel always known that the women in the SGC were a little more vulnerable. Not that a man couldn’t be raped, but Daniel knew that it was more likely to happen to a woman.

 

Mitchell’s expression went stony. “I don’t know. If they want to tell us, they will, but I’m not going to push for more details than they’re willing to give.”

 

Daniel nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“You want something for the pain?” Mitchell asked.

 

Daniel was about to refuse, but he thought better of it. “Please. I could use something.”

 

“We’ve still got morphine,” Mitchell assured him. “It should help.”

 

It would knock him flat on his ass, Daniel thought, but he didn’t say as much. He thought it might be a relief if he could spend the next few days—or the next few years—completely insensible.

 

“I could use it,” Daniel confessed.

 

Mitchell nodded, although his expression suggested that he knew Daniel’s choice to medicate was not _just_ due to pain. “Hang on.”

 

A few minutes later, the pain receded, and Daniel grew sleepy. He felt vaguely guilty for taking the easy out, but he didn’t regret his decision. Injured as he was, Daniel knew he wouldn’t have been of any help even if he did stay conscious.

 

He drifted away on a fog of opiates, and he was grateful for the reprieve.

 

~~~~~

 

Cam had no idea if he was making the right call, sedating Jackson like he had. Still, without medical personnel, his first aid skills—such as they were—were all they had. Sam had more experience, but she hadn’t thought Daniel was in any immediate danger, and Cam had to trust that she knew what she was talking about.

 

Actually, Sam had said there was nothing she could do for Daniel, nothing any of them could do but make him as comfortable as possible, and wait and see.

 

Jackson slept on, and Cam fidgeted with his 9 mil, watching the entrance to the cave. He wanted to get clean, and he wanted a reprieve, in about that order. He hadn’t liked the idea of the ladies going off on their own, but there hadn’t been another choice. Sam and Vala were in the best physical condition.

 

“Fuck,” Cam muttered. He was homesick, more than he had been at any other time in his life. The thought of not being able to go back to Earth—maybe not _ever_ being able to go back—made him incredibly melancholy.

 

Cam rested his forehead against his knees and wished he’d never taken this job. He hadn’t _wanted_ SG-1—he’d wanted to work _with_ SG-1. And if he’d gotten what he wanted, if O’Neill hadn’t pulled the fucking rug out from under him, Cam wouldn’t be in charge right now.

 

Jackson stirred in his sleep, whimpering a little, and Cam reached out to soothe him. “Hey, we’re good. We’re safe.”

 

When Jackson relaxed, Cam started to inventory their supplies. They’d taken cursory stock that morning, but Cam wanted a better idea of what they were working with.

 

Half an hour later, Cam had a good idea of just how screwed they were—they’d already used up most of their medical supplies. They’d each packed a few MREs and a few power bars. They each had a clean uniform, clean socks, and clean underwear.

 

Right now, Cam longed for a hot shower.

 

The ammo and weapons supplies weren’t too bad, but there was no way to replace what they used. Vala had two zats, a couple of stunners, and one staff weapon stashed in the cave, in addition to what she called “bits and bobs” for trading.

 

Cam had no idea what they were going to trade _for_. They needed medical supplies, a place to stay, a way to get to Pegasus. Hell, they needed a ship, or a generator with enough power to dial Pegasus.

 

He heard rustling at the mouth of the cave, and Cam swung his weapon around as Teal’c stuck his head inside. “Colonel Mitchell. I require your assistance. Please bring the rope from your pack.”

 

Cam glanced over at Jackson, relieved that the other man seemed to be resting comfortably. “Just a second.”

 

Teal’c stood outside with the body of a deer-like animal next to him. It was _huge_ , and Cam wondered how the hell they were going to eat it all.

 

“I believe we can use the meat for trade,” Teal’c said, as though reading Cam’s mind.

 

“Sure, why not?” Cam asked. “I guess if we stay here long enough, we could probably make jerky out of some of it.”

 

Teal’c raised one eyebrow. “Do you know how to make jerky?”

 

“Some of my cousins were hunters. I helped them out.” Cam shrugged. “I think we can figure it out.”

 

“How is Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c asked.

 

Cam hitched a shoulder and began to prep the carcass. “He’s doped up on morphine right now. Good thing we set his wrist when we did.”

 

“He needs a doctor,” Teal’c said quietly.

 

Cam grunted. “Yeah, well, a doctor’s one of the things we don’t have.”

 

They worked in silence to skin and butcher the carcass. Cam hadn’t been hunting in well over a decade, and he’d forgotten how hot and nasty the work was. He and Teal’c both stripped off their shirts to keep from ruining more clothing. They were just finishing up when Sam and Vala returned.

 

“How is Daniel?” Vala asked immediately.

 

“Sleeping off the dose of morphine I gave him,” Cam replied. “He’s pretty beat up, but I think he’ll be okay. How was the village?”

 

“Just like any other village,” Vala replied with a grimace, dropping her bundle on the ground. “We did a brisk trade, and with some of that meat, we might do better, although I’d recommend going to the other one to avoid raising too many eyebrows.”

 

“How long can we stay?” Cam asked.

 

“I don’t think there’s a time limit, really, as long as we have food,” Sam replied. “Long enough to heal up a little and decide where we’re going next.”

 

“Where _are_ we going next?” Vala sprawled on ground.

 

Cam glanced toward the cave where Jackson slept on. “Let’s wait to have this discussion until we’re all awake, okay?”

 

Cam didn’t want to go there right now; he didn’t want to make the call, not yet.

 

~~~~~

 

Vala leaned over Daniel, taking in his sleep-mussed hair and flushed face. He appeared to be resting easily enough, and she touched his cheek gently. “Daniel.”

 

He came awake suddenly and would have tried to push himself up with his bad wrist if Vala hadn’t held him still. “Vala?” he said after a second.

 

“Yes, we’re safe. Teal’c and Cameron have roasted a very large animal. If we don’t want to miss out, we should get out there.”

 

Daniel seemed to process her explanation slowly. “Food?”

 

“If we hurry,” Vala replied. “Are you hungry? I think you should try to eat something.”

 

Daniel nodded. “I could eat.”

 

Vala turned to go and was surprised when Daniel grabbed her wrist with his good hand. “How are you?” he asked.

 

Vala shrugged. “I’m fine.”

 

“Vala—” Daniel began. “I speak Goa’uld.” When she stared at him, he added, “I heard the guards talking about you.”

 

Vala felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know; she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. She thought Sam might suspect. Sam had been awake after that last, horrendous interrogation when the guards had returned Vala to their shared cell. Sam had simply made room for Vala on the straw pallet that served as their bed, and then had put an arm around Vala when Vala couldn’t help reaching out.

 

She hadn’t wanted _Daniel_ to know, she realized. She hadn’t wanted Daniel to think less of her.

 

“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” she said faintly.

 

“Vala—”

 

The pity in his eyes was too much to bear, and she struck back. “It wasn’t the first time I traded sex for something I wanted.”

 

“You didn’t offer,” Daniel replied in a low voice. “You didn’t have a choice.”

 

Vala swallowed hard. “No, I didn’t.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”

 

She thought she might believe him eventually, but right now she had to wonder why the guards had targeted _her_ , although she knew better. The guards had targeted Daniel as well, although for a different kind of abuse.

 

Vala was spared from having to respond when Cameron called, “Come on, you two! Get your asses out here.”

 

She helped Daniel up, and then waved him out. “I’ll be along in a moment.”

 

“If you want to talk about it,” Daniel offered.

 

Vala shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

 

She took a moment to collect herself, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She needed to control her emotions; she’d learned the art of wearing a mask years ago.

 

Vala _needed_ to be fine; she couldn’t afford to show weakness.

 

Taking several deep breaths, Vala managed to fight back the tears, and went out to join the others.

 

Sam had saved her a seat, and a hunk of barbecued meat. Vala accepted the charred stick and the flatbread they’d traded for in the village.

 

Vala nibbled tentatively, then took a more enthusiastic bite. The freshly roasted meat was a joy to her taste buds after a week of gruel—and that term might be generous.

 

“So, the way I see it, we’ve got two choices,” Cam said without preamble. “We can either ignore General O’Neill’s orders and find a way to go back to Earth, or we follow orders and find a way to get to Atlantis.”

 

They were ranged around a small fire, and the mood might almost have been festive if it weren’t for the discussion topic. Still, there was roasted meat and fresh bread and small, dried fruits. Cam and Teal’c were still only half-dressed, but Vala and Sam had changed into the clothing that Vala had stashed years before. They were a motley crew, but this group was still the closest thing to family Vala had.

 

When no one immediately spoke, Cam prompted, “Suggestions?”

 

“We don’t know what’s happening on Earth,” Daniel said, his voice rough. “I know Jack, and I know he wouldn’t have started this if the situation wasn’t dire.”

 

“So, that’s one vote for Atlantis,” Cam said. “Sam?”

 

Sam shook her head. “Daniel is right. If we’re going to go back to Earth, we need a hell of a lot more information than what we have. Maybe if we could get that without going to Atlantis…”

 

“We’d have to find other folks from the SGC,” Cam agreed. “We’ve got that list they passed out.”

 

“We could try a few worlds,” Sam said. “See if we can’t get a little more information, maybe find out if General O’Neill made it out.”

 

Cam nodded. “Jackson?”

 

“We can’t stay here too long,” Daniel said. “And we need to figure out how we’re going to get to Pegasus. We could do both.”

 

Sam nodded. “I say we head for Atlantis, but get as much information as we can on the way. We can steal a ship, or maybe gate there.”

 

“How would we gate?” Cam asked. “Is that possible? Don’t we need more power?”

 

“My suggestion is that we get as close to the edge of the Milky Way as we can, and try to find a naquadah generator.” Sam shrugged. “I can’t make any promises.”

 

“We’d be better off stealing a ship,” Vala put in. “There are plenty of people smuggling for the Lucian Alliance. If we make sure that they can’t come after us, we might actually get away with it.”

 

Cam nodded. “Vala? You got a plan for that?”

 

“Not yet,” she replied with what she felt was commendable bravado. “But I might be able to come up with something.”

 

Cam glanced towards Teal’c. “You’ve been pretty quiet, big guy. What have you got to say?”

 

“I cannot go to Pegasus,” Teal’c said quietly. “My place is with my people. I cannot leave the Milky Way.”

 

Vala could see what a blow that announcement was to the rest of her companions, but she understood where Teal’c was coming from. Vala’s loyalty was to Daniel and Sam first, but Teal’c’s was to his people.

 

Cam sighed. “Yeah, I get that, T. Vala?”

 

“I don’t have any loyalty to this galaxy,” Vala said quietly. “I go where the team goes.” She sent an apologetic look towards Teal’c. “Well, where the majority of the team goes, anyway.”

 

Teal’c inclined his head in acceptance. “I understand, Vala Mal Doran.”

 

“So, we go to Pegasus,” Cam said heavily. “At least, that’s what I’m hearing.”

 

Next to her, Vala felt Sam tremble. “We don’t know what the situation on Earth is like,” Sam said a little desperately. “We don’t even know…

 

Vala reached over to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We don’t know who from the SGC has survived,” she supplied. “If there was someone we knew could be rescued, it would be different, but we don’t even know why things have changed so much so soon.”

 

Daniel focused on his meal, and Cam rubbed his eyes. Vala didn’t remember seeing him eat, and she reminded herself to make sure he had something in his stomach later. _Someone_ had to look out for them. She was the one least emotionally compromised by the current turn of events, although that probably wasn’t saying much.

 

“I’d guess the Trust,” Cam finally said. “They’ve been making moves. And we know the Ori want Earth pretty badly. A combination like that—I don’t think we have any other choice than to regroup and figure out what the fuck is going on.”

 

Vala had never heard Cam swear like that before, but he seemed to have dropped his guard. He seemed to have given up his role as leader of the team to take on suggestions.

 

“Then what?” Daniel asked. “We split up?”

 

“I think that might be for the best,” Teal’c said solemnly. He looked directly at Sam. “I will find out what happened to General O’Neill and help him if I can. And if there are others I might save, I will do so.”

 

Sam nodded and then stared down at her meal. “Thank you.”

 

“How long do we need?” Cam asked after a long pause. “We can probably stay here for at least a couple of days.”

 

“We should take that long to recover,” Daniel offered quietly. “Speaking for myself, anyway, we need a chance to heal up before we walk back into danger.”

 

Daniel glanced at Vala out of the corner of his eye as he spoke, and Vala knew that he’d made that statement at least partially for her benefit. She was torn between anger and amusement at how solicitous he was being.

 

“We could all use a couple of days,” Cam agreed. “We need the time to get our bearings and make concrete plans. We’ll figure the rest of it out later.”

 

“I agree,” Teal’c said. “I will use this time to plan.”

 

Sam nodded. “Me, too. Let’s take a few days.” She looked around the clearing. “This isn’t a bad place to rest.”

 

“No, not at all,” Daniel murmured.

 

Vala remained silent, uncertain of how to respond, or what to say. She was grateful for a couple of days to recuperate. She might regain her equilibrium by then.

 

She might have something to offer. She hoped so, anyway.


	4. Brave New World

_“Oh, right, you want to know about our declaration of independence? Well, let me tell you, it sucked. Other people will lie and say what a great day it was when Atlantis became independent, but it wasn’t. It meant a hell of a lot more work, for one, and the absence of certain crucial supplies. Nobody ever talks about that. Sure, we did without a lot of things that first year, but that was because we were_ cut off _. After we got the message from O’Neill, we knew we were done with Earth. We couldn’t even_ hope _for help. That sucked. Don’t let anybody tell you differently.”_

 

~Interview with Dr. Rodney McKay

 

Teyla folded her hands around the clay mug. She had recognized the artisan as soon as Halling had poured the tea. “This was made by Laro, was it not?”

 

“It was,” Halling agreed. “As always, you have an excellent eye, Teyla.” Halling glanced at John, whose fingers were wrapped tightly around his own mug, and were white with tension. “Not that it isn’t wonderful to see you both, but I sense you have a reason for coming other than to share a meal.”

 

Teyla waited for John to speak, but when he remained silent, Teyla began, “Things have changed on Atlantis, Halling. Earth has fallen.”

 

“Atlantis is now an independent colony,” John added after a pause, finally looking up to meet Halling’s eyes. “As you can imagine, that changes our position.”

 

Halling nodded slowly. “I see. Then you will need more supplies.”

 

When John didn’t reply immediately, Teyla said, “And guides. You mentioned at one point that several people had expressed an interest in such a role on Atlantis.”

 

“That hasn’t changed,” Halling confirmed. “I know of at least six who would volunteer immediately, and several more who might be willing to serve a term after their current obligations have been completed.”

 

Teyla nodded. “That was what I had hoped. Thank you, Halling.”

 

“Those on Atlantis have done much for our people,” Halling said, directing his comment at John. “We are happy to return the favor.”

 

“Thanks, Halling,” John said sincerely.

 

Halling raised his eyebrows. “I assume that you’ll need regular trade agreements.”

 

“That and allies,” John said. “We’ll need to cement our alliances with worlds we already have agreements with. I don’t think much is going to change, but we want to be sure everybody else knows that.”

 

Halling stared into the bottom of his mug. “May I ask—without supplies coming in from Earth, what do you have to trade?”

 

John glanced over at Teyla. “Mostly expertise. We’ve got botanists who can help with crop yields, scientists who can help with technology, doctors who can help with illnesses. Depends on what people need.”

 

Halling nodded. “May I make a suggestion?”

 

“Please do,” Teyla said.

 

“If we have more laborers during planting and harvest, and more hunters, we can take care of more of your needs. You wouldn’t have to rely on off-world allies as much, and you will have food and animal skins to trade.” Halling made the suggestion with uncharacteristic hesitancy, and Teyla knew that Halling feared that John and the Lanteans would believe such labor beneath them.

 

John smiled. “I think that can be arranged. It’s a great idea, Halling. I’ll be the first to volunteer.”

 

“A leader cannot ask others to go where he isn’t willing to go himself.” Halling nodded. “That is wise, Colonel.”

 

John shrugged off the praise. “There’s nothing wrong with a little manual labor.” He grinned suddenly. “Throw in a little of that _ruus_ wine, and you’ll have Marines chomping at the bit for a chance to help you guys out.”

 

Halling chuckled. “I think you have yourself a bargain, Colonel.” He sobered and said, “Jinto will want to help.”

 

“Jinto?” John asked incredulously. “He’s just a kid.”

 

Teyla touched John’s arm. “Jinto is old enough to be accepted as an apprentice.”

 

“How old would you prefer the guides to be?” Halling asked carefully. “How old are your soldiers?”

 

“At least eighteen,” John said immediately. “Eighteen cycles.”

 

Halling breathed a sigh of relief. “A reasonable age.”

 

John raised his eyebrows. “You want to give Jinto a deadline.”

 

Halling smiled. “It’s easier to explain that the Lanteans have an unreasonable expectation that their guides are older than Jinto currently is.”

 

John chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about Jinto pushing you this way.”

 

Halling shrugged. “What can a father do?”

 

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t accept him as a guide unless he had your blessing,” John said. “He’s important to me, too, Halling.”

 

“I appreciate that,” Halling replied.

 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” John asked. “If you do—”

 

“No, but thank you.” Halling’s voice was sincere. “Jinto has become used to strange off-world customs, and this will give him something to look forward to.”

 

“Assuming he still wants to work for us once he’s of age,” John said wryly. “When I was his age, I changed my mind about twice a day.”

 

Halling chuckled. “It’s possible, but you’ve made quite the impression on him.”

 

“Send him to us when the time comes,” John said. “If he still has his heart set on it, we’ll make sure he has something worthwhile to do that’s relatively safe.”

 

Halling smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

 

“No, thank _you_ ,” Teyla said. “I know I speak for all Atlantis when I say that we will care for anyone who comes to Atlantis as though they were our own.”

 

Halling nodded. “You take care of your people, Colonel Sheppard; we know that. I think you will find that there are far more people than you might expect who are willing to join you in your fight.”

 

“Thank you,” John replied, inclining his head.

 

“That being said,” Halling continued, “all of those who have indicated a willingness to serve as guides are young, no more than thirty cycles, but older than eighteen. They do not have families who rely on them, and they are looking for adventure.”

 

John nodded. “They sound like my kind of people.”

 

~~~~~

 

Elizabeth hated waiting. She wished she could sit in on the meetings with John and Rodney, but those present would be more inclined to be honest if she wasn’t there. So, she would wait to find out how the rest of the expedition had handled the news.

 

The Athosians were on board, Elizabeth reminded herself. With a promise of help for planting and harvest, Atlantis had a steady stream of crops and meat. Not enough for the entire expedition—not comfortably, anyway—but it was a good start.

 

It was a _great_ start, Elizabeth thought. It might even be enough, but she liked to hedge her bets.

 

Elizabeth took a sip of coffee, savoring it, and wondered if they’d be able to find anything remotely similar in the Pegasus galaxy. The last she’d heard, there had been a couple of possibilities, but the botanists hadn’t pursued them because the _Daedalus_ had arrived, and it had no longer been necessary.

 

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. Now that she had the reports from Carson, she would have to check with Rodney and Dr. Parrish about what the botany department could grow, and check with the chemists as to what they could synthesize. They would need a source of ammunition and explosives, and they would need more power, which meant more ZPMs.

 

And she would have to do something about the report on her desk that had been delivered the previous night. She was absurdly grateful that she’d received the file _after_ it was a moot point.

 

Elizabeth heard the quiet whoosh of the door behind her, and she turned to see John entering. “Is this a bad time?” he asked.

 

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, please. Sit down. How did the meeting go?”

 

John’s calm expression revealed nothing. “About as well as could be expected. A few people asked why we weren’t gearing up to retake Earth, and I explained that there wasn’t any way we could right now.” He nodded towards the gate room. “Are we going to try to dial Earth? It might help settle things in people’s minds.”

 

Elizabeth had thought of that possibility. “I wasn’t sure it would be a wise move from a security standpoint.”

 

“They know where Atlantis is,” John replied. “The only way we’d have a hope of hiding is if we moved the city to a different planet.”

 

She sighed. “All right. When should we do it?”

 

“I’d suggest waiting another day or two,” John advised. “Let’s make sure that O’Neill has time to do whatever he needs to do. It’ll be easier that way. If we can’t actually get to Earth, nobody is going to argue about staying here.”

 

Elizabeth nodded, and then took a deep breath. “There’s something else.”

 

“There usually is,” John replied dryly.

 

Elizabeth almost smiled. “We need to talk about city governance.”

 

“I thought we were going to stick with the status quo.”

 

“We are,” Elizabeth confirmed. “But there are certain areas in which the status quo doesn’t serve us.” She pushed the tablet across her desk, the report on the first screen.

 

She studied John’s face for his reaction and watched him pale. She wondered what this conversation would have been like if Marshall Sumner had still been the military leader. John had been a relative unknown when they’d arrived in Atlantis, but she’d come to trust and respect him a great deal.

 

Any question she’d had as to John’s probable reaction was put to rest when he set the tablet gently down on the table. “This is…fuck. This is a career-ender.”

 

“It _was_ a career-ender,” she corrected him gently. “John, I don’t care, and I’m certainly not going to send a report to Earth regarding the sexual proclivities of the people on Atlantis.”

 

John rubbed his eyes. “There’s probably a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

 

“I have no idea if the report was meant as a warning to be discreet, or if he intended to take it up with a higher authority if I didn’t send the report on,” Elizabeth replied.

 

John surged out of the chair and stalked over to the window overlooking the gate room. “Dammit, Elizabeth.”

 

“How many do you think there are?” she asked quietly.

 

John shook his head, not turning to look at her. “There’s a certain point where you get really good at _not_ looking for evidence, you know? Oh, sure, there are some assholes who look for reasons, who will go off on witch-hunts, but for the most part, you get good at ignoring the evidence. For some of us, the ‘don’t ask’ part is primary.”

 

Elizabeth stayed quiet. She could hear the quiet passion in John’s voice, and she suspected he was speaking from experience.

 

“But to answer your question, Atlantis was a one-way mission for a lot of people. It’s possible there’s a higher than usual number here than there are on other bases.” John sat back down. “I happen to know that Captain Reeves has been spending a lot of time with Dr. Anson because Anson is on his team. They had a tough mission a couple of months ago. If Reeves has been providing any other support besides that of a friend, I wouldn’t ask.”

 

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “But…”

 

“But they haven’t been as discreet as they probably should have been,” John admitted. “Reeves is young, and Atlantis is a pressure cooker.” He sighed. “And it’s always easier to accuse someone other than your CO.”

 

Elizabeth took that information in, and then nodded slowly. “I see. Would there be a reason someone would have to make a report about you?”

 

John shook his head. “I’ve been in the service for a long time. Even if an allegation didn’t stick…” John shrugged. “I’ve already got one black mark. It wouldn’t take much.”

 

Elizabeth could read the tension behind John’s studied nonchalance. “So, once word spreads, and we try—and likely fail—to dial Earth, I think we should make it clear that such allegations aren’t going to bear fruit.”

 

John opened his mouth to reply, only to clam up when Rodney came barreling into the room. “Well, apparently my minions are marginally less moronic than I previously believed.” He stopped, and then looked from Elizabeth to John and back again. “Okay, what happened?”

 

Elizabeth glanced at John, who shrugged eloquently. Elizabeth responded by handing Rodney the tablet.

 

Rodney glanced at the report and rolled his eyes. “Oh, for… Are you kidding me? If Private whatsit has time to spend spying on his fellow soldiers, then I can find him a job.”

 

Elizabeth’s lips twitched. “And what would that be?”

 

“Oh, I’ll find something he can’t fuck up too badly,” Rodney said darkly. “Like cleaning out the sewage tanks. With a toothbrush.”

 

John snorted, and some of the tension left his shoulders. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary, Rodney,” he drawled. “He sent the report to Elizabeth, not to me. It’s entirely possible that the kid just wanted to warn Reeves to be more careful without confronting him personally.”

 

Rodney slumped down in the other chair. “Why the hell do we even have to care about this?” he demanded a little petulantly. “We’re cut off from Earth. Archaic military rules don’t mean anything now. It’s not like we’re going to kick someone off the city just because they’re gay.”

 

“I happen to agree,” Elizabeth said smoothly. “Before we make any sweeping changes, however, I think it’s important that we at least try to dial Earth.”

 

“Day after tomorrow,” Rodney said, apparently ahead of her. “That gives O’Neill time to do what he said they were going to do. Besides, we can claim we’re hoarding energy.”

 

Elizabeth hid a smile. For all their differences, there were times when John and Rodney thought scarily alike.

 

John raised his eyebrows. “How did your meeting go, McKay?”

 

“Probably about the same way yours did,” Rodney replied peevishly. “Most of them are in shock, and a few wanted to know why we weren’t putting our considerable skills to work saving Earth. I, of course, pointed out that we’re going to have enough to do _saving ourselves_.”

 

Rodney’s sneer seemed rather shaky to Elizabeth, and she vaguely recalled that he had family back on Earth, although he wasn’t close to them.  Everyone was used to Rodney loudly protesting about how important he was, usually right about the time he threw himself into harm’s way saving the entire city.

 

“Still, dialing Earth and failing will shut those people up,” Rodney continued.

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay, day after tomorrow, and then we announce whatever changes we’re going to make.” She took a deep breath. “Which brings me to my next point: we need to prioritize what we need to grow, make, or manufacture in the next months, and we need to do it now.”

 

John sat up slightly. “We need more energy weapons, like the Wraith, or even the Goa’uld have. We wouldn’t have to worry about ammo and explosives so much that way.”

 

“I agree. Rodney?”

 

“The chemists are already on the manufacture of C4,” Rodney replied. “It’s not that hard. And I had Carson send them the list of medications where supply is going to become a problem, mostly antibiotics.”

 

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Good. That’s a good start. Let’s talk power supplies.”

 

~~~~~

 

“So, don’t tell me you had a problem with changing that stupid rule.”

 

Rodney had followed John back to his little-used office, and John figured it had probably been too much to hope for that Rodney wouldn’t bring up Corporal Barnes’ report. Barnes hadn’t been on Atlantis long enough for John to get a good read on why, exactly, Barnes would accuse a superior officer of having an illicit affair with a member of his team.

 

It could be like John had told Elizabeth—Barnes’ way of notifying Reeves he needed to be more discreet. It could be that he had something against Reeves, or that he wanted to get even for something. Maybe Barnes was just a homophobe who didn’t like the idea that a gay man was wearing the uniform.

 

John just _didn’t know_ , which was one of the reasons he tended to keep his mouth shut when the issue of DADT came up.

 

He’d learned to recognize others like him by the way they responded to conversations about the subject. Those who had something to hide tended to go just a little tight around the eyes, or respond just a little too loudly, a little too brightly.

 

John, on the other hand, had stepped over a lot of lines in his time. He’d disobeyed a lot of orders, but only when lives were on the line. He didn’t expect to die from lack of getting laid any time soon.

 

Not that Rodney needed to know any of that.

 

“I don’t have a problem with it,” John finally said, standing by the small window. He wasn’t sure whether his delay in answering had driven home the point that he didn’t give a flying fuck what Rodney thought, or if it looked like he was prevaricating.

 

Right at this moment, John didn’t care one way or another.

 

“But you want to keep things the way they are,” Rodney said, with an expression of betrayal, as though John had disappointed him.

 

At this point, John knew what Rodney could be like when he’d sunk his teeth into an idea, and he recognized the signs. “Not really, but we’ve got enough to deal with right now. I was hoping it could wait.”

 

Rodney sneered. “So, Captain Reed—”

 

“ _Reeves_ ,” John snapped.

 

“Fine, whatever. So, he and Anson just go on sneaking around, worrying about discovery and not doing their jobs. How is that good for morale? I thought you were smarter than that, _Colonel_.”

 

John rounded on Rodney, feeling his face heat with his anger. He usually kept a pretty tight rein on it; John knew just how dangerous he could be if he let go. “You know, if you could refrain from jumping to conclusions for _five fucking minutes_ , that would be great, McKay.”

 

Rodney took a step back, his eyes widening. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah, _oh_.” John rubbed his eyes. “Forget it.”

 

Rodney was already shaking his head. “But why wouldn’t you want to change it?” He sounded so bewildered that John dropped into the chair behind the desk that he rarely used. In fact, John shared the office with Lorne, who was there a lot more than John was.

 

“Because it doesn’t matter for me,” John replied wearily. “I’m the military commander, and you don’t fuck with people under your command. I can’t fool around off-world, because that might screw up a trade agreement and then we’d all starve to death, or somebody would get killed.”

 

“But the women!” Rodney protested. “You’ve—you’re straight!”

 

“I like women, but I prefer men,” John said flatly. “My career survived disobeying orders; it wouldn’t survive the allegation that I’m gay. It wasn’t worth it. And for the record, Rodney? There have been two women in two years. That doesn’t exactly make me Casanova.”

 

Rodney stared at him for a moment, then asked, “So, you didn’t want to change the rules, because…?”

 

“Because we’re almost guaranteed to have some asshole decide that it’s his job to educate whoever comes out first,” John replied. “And I wanted to focus on not getting eaten by the Wraith, and having enough food, and all of those other things before I had to worry about any other serious upheavals. The fact that we’re cut off from Earth is going to put everyone on edge. This kind of thing has the potential for being explosive.”

 

Rodney nodded slowly. “Okay. That’s a fair point.”

 

“Good, great. Now, will you just forget this conversation ever happened and get the hell out of here?” John asked. “I’m supposed to be training with Teyla right about now, and then I need to meet with Lorne to figure out how best to deal with this mess.”

 

Rodney nodded, although his thoughtful expression made John nervous. “Yeah, okay. I just—I didn’t know.”

 

John sighed. “Rodney, it’s called ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ for a reason. It’s fine. Just forget it.”

 

Rodney left, and John put his head in his hands. He knew that the last few days had been hell on all of them, but he felt bone-tired and a little sick. No one— _no one_ —knew about his sexual preferences. John had been hiding who he was since college, maybe since high school. He’d known he wanted to fly since he had been fifteen, and John had known what it would take to get there.

 

John tried to push that fear aside as he headed for the training session with Teyla.

 

She greeted him in the usual way, with her hands on his shoulders and her forehead pressed to his. “You look tired, John.”

 

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” John admitted. “Let’s do this.”

 

Teyla gave him a sharp look that immediately had him backpedaling. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. That was—it’s just been a crappy morning.”

 

“Then let’s get to work,” Teyla replied. “You always feel more centered after a sparring session.”

 

Since that was true enough, John picked up his _bantos_ rods and prepared to get his ass kicked.

 

Fifteen minutes in, and John knew Teyla was going easy on him. John _knew_ he was dropping his guard, and that if Teyla had pressed harder, she would have been able to hurt him a lot worse.

 

“You’re holding back.”

 

“I’m meeting you halfway,” Teyla corrected gently. “You’re not fully present.”

 

John just managed to dodge a blow. “There’s a _thing_. Corporal Barnes—you know him?”

 

“No, not really.”

 

John got a lucky blow in. “He filed a report with Elizabeth yesterday evening. He saw Captain Reeves coming out of Dr. Anson’s quarters late at night.”

 

Teyla frowned. “Don’t you often stay late with Rodney?”

 

“Yeah, but Barnes was accusing Reeves and Anson of being _together_. That kind of accusation could get someone kicked out of the military, if we weren’t cut off from Earth.”

 

“I see,” Teyla said carefully, striking quickly.

 

John felt the blow on his left flank and felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. He took a couple of quick steps backward and tried to catch his breath. “How do your people handle that sort of thing?”

 

He’d never asked before; John wasn’t sure he’d wanted to know until now.

 

Teyla shrugged fluidly. “The Athosians form family groups. We are encouraged to have children as we are able, but we have no prejudice against those who prefer someone of the same gender.”

 

John managed to block her next few strikes, and then she smacked him in the right thigh.

 

“Why do you ask, John?” Teyla asked as he shrugged off the pain.

 

He sighed. “I sort of told Rodney about my preferences.”

 

John had never told Teyla—and if he were completely honest, Teyla was one of the few women to whom he’d been seriously attracted—but he suspected that she knew anyway.

 

“I see.” Teyla circled him slowly. “And this upsets you? Leaves you off-balance?”

 

“Nobody else knows,” John replied.

 

“Except for Rodney, and now me.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Teyla moved swiftly and laid John out on the mat. “We are family, John,” Teyla replied, helping him to his feet. “There is nothing you could say or do that would cause us to think less of you, or turn our backs on you.” John allowed Teyla to pull him in close, and she whispered, “But I understand the desire to hide.”

 

John shuddered under her knowing hands and breathed in deep, smelling Teyla’s faintly spicy scent under her sweat. “I have to talk to Lorne,” he murmured.

 

“Go.”

 

John wasn’t looking forward to the discussion with his second-in-command, but it had to be done. They had to figure out how they were supposed to tell the rest of the military personnel on Atlantis that the rules had changed.

 

And he had to figure out what, if anything else, to say.

 

~~~~~

 

Evan had heard the grim note in Sheppard’s voice when he called to ask for a meeting in their shared office. They were rarely there at the same time, and after the all-hands meeting that morning, Evan had been under the impression that they were going to at least attempt to keep things as normal as possible.

 

He didn’t bother saluting; Sheppard had made it clear during the first week that unless Evan was delivering an official report or conducting formal business, it wasn’t necessary. Actually, Sheppard didn’t seem to care about the formalities even then.

 

Sheppard immediately waved him into the spare seat. “We’ve got a problem, Major.”

 

Evan raised his eyebrows. “Sir?”

 

“Corporal Barnes sent Dr. Weir a report yesterday evening, informing her that he’d seen Captain Reeves coming out of Dr. Anson’s quarters very late at night—or very early in the morning, depending on your point of view.”

 

Evan winced. “How many times?”

 

“At least twice in the last month,” Sheppard replied. “Elizabeth pointed out that it was a moot point, but that we may want to make note of that after we try—and probably fail—to dial Earth.”

 

Evan blinked as he took in that news. He probably should have expected that to be the response, but the reality took him aback. “We’re abolishing DADT.”

 

“As an independent colony, I suppose we can,” Sheppard replied. “Although if circumstances change…” He shrugged. “Right now, however, I’m more concerned with minimizing fallout. What do you know about Barnes?”

 

Evan had to think about it. “He was one of the replacements from the last _Daedalus_ run.” He winced reflexively, knowing how accurate those words were. “As far as I know, he’s a good kid. He’s a Marine, and he’s young, so he’s a little gung-ho, but I haven’t heard any complaints.”

 

Sheppard sighed. “That’s what I thought. We’ll need to handle this carefully.”

 

Evan hesitated before pointing out, “You know, if one of the top-ranking officers were to come out first, it might smooth the way.”

 

He kept his expression perfectly impassive at Sheppard’s knowing look. “Major, I’m not going to ask you to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to do myself.”

 

Sheppard held Evan’s gaze, his mouth twisting in a sardonic smile, and Evan felt a little of the tension bleed out. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Speaking of, we’re going to need to set up a rotation to help the Athosians with planting, harvest and hunting.” Sheppard switched subjects with ease. “Nobody gets out of going unless they’re on medical leave.”

 

Evan nodded. “You got it. What about gate teams?”

 

“We’ll rotate off-world missions, too.”

 

After a couple of hours of work, Evan and Sheppard had worked out a rotation for off-world missions and groups to send to the mainland to help the Athosians. Although Evan hadn’t known quite what to expect from Sheppard before coming to Atlantis, they worked well together. None of his other commanding officers had Sheppard’s wry sense of humor or laidback attitude, but once Evan had gotten used to him, he’d found they complemented each other well.

 

And if there was one thing Evan could respect, it was that Sheppard took care of his people.

 

“One more thing we need to settle, Major,” Sheppard said once they’d finalized the schedule and sent a copy to Dr. Weir for her approval. “Until now, the understanding was always that you’d fill my shoes if something happened to me.”

 

Evan straightened in his seat. “Is that no longer the case, sir?”

 

“Relax, Lorne,” Sheppard drawled. “You’re still my first choice, but without any reinforcements from Earth, we need a detailed chain of command.”

 

Evan took a deep breath. “You’re talking about worst case scenarios. If something happens to both of us, who will take over from there.”

 

“Exactly.” Sheppard’s intense expression was a far cry from his usual laconic self. “And time in service doesn’t mean shit. There are certain people I wouldn’t want in charge of Atlantis.”

 

“I think I know who you mean,” Evan agreed.

 

By the time Evan left Sheppard’s office, the mess had stopped serving dinner, and none of the available sandwiches looked appealing.

 

“Problem, Major?”

 

Evan glanced over at Zelenka. “My meeting went late, and it looks like I’m out of luck for dinner tonight.”

 

Zelenka smiled. “Ah, that’s why it helps to have connections. This way.”

 

Evan followed Zelenka back to the kitchen. One of the cooks, Dawson, waved at Zelenka cheerfully. “Hey, Dr. Z. Did you not get dinner?”

 

“Major Lorne was working late with the colonel,” Zelenka replied. “I thought you might have leftovers.”

 

Dawson hesitated, and then said, “Of course, Major. Let me get you a plate. Just—don’t eat it out there, okay? I’ll have everybody back here wanting me to bend the rules for them.”

 

“Of course, Corporal Dawson. I’ll eat it at the counter over there if that’s all right,” Lorne said, gesturing.

 

Evan was soon digging into a hot meal. Dawson finished her cleaning and ducked out of the kitchen, leaving Evan alone with Dr. Zelenka. The silence that fell probably should have been awkward but wasn’t. In truth, Evan was grateful for the company; he didn’t particularly want to be alone with his own thoughts tonight.

 

“Thanks for this,” Evan said when he realized that he hadn’t expressed his gratitude.

 

Zelenka shrugged, showing no sign of leaving. “It is not a problem. If you don’t mind me keeping you company, I think I would like to avoid going back to the labs.”

 

“Dr. McKay on the warpath?” Evan asked after he’d finished his bite of what could almost be called chicken.

 

Zelenka rolled his eyes. “ _Ano_. He gets this way sometimes, usually when he’s angry with Colonel Sheppard. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

 

Evan shook his head. “There are a few big things going on, but nothing that would affect McKay, at least that I know of.”

 

Zelenka shrugged philosophically. “Then who knows? But we have made ourselves scarce, so there are fewer targets for his anger. It is better if there are no targets.” He paused. “And I do not think we will have many evenings free in the future.”

 

Evan made a noise of agreement as he chased a bit of butter sauce around his plate with a carrot. “No, probably not.”

 

“We will try to dial Earth soon.”

 

Zelenka’s tone made it a statement of fact, not a question, and Lorne nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“You do not think we will be successful.”

 

“I know General O’Neill, at least a little,” Evan replied carefully. “If he thought there was even the slightest chance he could avoid sending that message, he would have. The fact that he’s given up tells me we probably won’t be able to dial Earth.”

 

“This is my thought as well.”

 

Evan pushed his plate away. “Do you have family on Earth?” he asked, a little abashed that he didn’t already know.

 

“I have a brother and a sister,” Zelenka said. “And my sister’s son, who is a menace.”

 

“Aren’t most kids?” Evan asked.

 

Zelenka huffed his agreement. “Yes. And you?”

 

“Parents, a sister, her husband, their two kids—plus extended family.” Evan swallowed, thinking of all of them. Mostly, he worried about what the government would tell them about what had happened to him. Would he be classified as MIA? As a POW? Or would the government tell them he’d been killed in a training accident—the typical explanation given for SGC personnel killed off-world.

 

“May I ask why you came to Atlantis?” Zelenka asked gently.

 

Evan thought about it for a moment. “Because this opportunity was too good to pass up, and because I thought I could make a difference. You?”

 

“Because I was promised spaceships,” Zelenka replied with a smile. “And because there was nothing truly holding me to Earth.”

 

Evan chuckled. “I think the spaceships got all of us.” He took a breath. “I hear you’re a champion chess player.”

 

“Do you wish to play?” Zelenka asked with interest. “I wasn’t aware you were interested in chess.”

 

“I haven’t played before, but I wouldn’t mind learning,” Evan replied. “I had a few things on order for the next _Daedalus_ run, but since that’s not going to happen…”

 

“What did you have on order?” Zelenka asked with every indication of real interest.

 

“Oil pants, mostly,” Evan admitted. “And a few canvases. I’ve got a sketchpad here, and some charcoals and watercolors, but I like the depth of oil.”

 

Zelenka’s eyes widened. “You paint?”

 

“I don’t know how well, but my mom taught me. It was something we did together.”

 

“Perhaps you’ll show me some of your work some time.”

 

Evan was still a little surprised that he’d admitted his hobby. He wasn’t ashamed of his paintings, but it was one of those things he didn’t tell just anybody about. He’d been butt of too many jokes in the past.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Evan replied. He’d been on Atlantis long enough that he didn’t have to worry about it.

 

No, he was going to be on Atlantis for the foreseeable future. Evan probably should get used to telling people that he liked to paint on his off-hours, that he preferred men to women, and that he couldn’t stand ketchup.

 

He couldn’t quite decide whether there was every reason to hide, or no reason at all.

 

“I will enjoy having a student,” Zelenka replied. “If you have nothing else this evening, we can begin now.”

 

Evan nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

~~~~~

 

Elizabeth watched as Chuck programmed the final symbol for Earth, and she let out a breath when the wormhole failed to initialize.

 

At least we know what we’re dealing with, she thought.

 

Chuck looked over his shoulder at her and shook his head, his throat working. “I’m sorry, Dr. Weir.”

 

“Thank you, Chuck,” she murmured and turned to look at Rodney and John, who were standing behind her. The gate room had become a little crowded over the last hour. Somehow, the entire city had heard the news that they were trying to dial Earth, and those who had gathered were probably drifting off to tell everyone else they knew that it hadn’t worked.

 

In a couple of hours, the entire city would know that they were, indeed, cut off.

 

Rodney fidgeted. “So, we go ahead on our plans?”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “We do. John, we’re going to start with the rotation you sent me as soon as possible.”

 

John had his hands tucked in his armpits, his whole body taut. “We start tomorrow morning. Do you want me to make the announcement this afternoon?”

 

“I’ll send out an email,” Elizabeth replied. “Is there anything else I need to say?”

 

“Just what we talked about.” John rocked back on his heels. “I should get going. I have a couple of things that need my attention.”

 

Elizabeth had no idea what John needed to do, but she wasn’t willing to ask. She sensed that the citywide repeal of DADT was hitting a nerve with him. “Go ahead,” she said. “As per the schedule, Lorne’s team is up first.”

 

“I’ll let him know,” he promised, and then turned on his heel to leave the command tower.

 

Elizabeth wasn’t entirely surprised when Rodney followed her into her office. “What can I do for you, Rodney?”

 

“What happens if we reestablish contact with Earth?” Rodney asked as soon as the door slid closed behind him.

 

She frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

 

“If you get rid of DADT _now_ , you have to know that the soldiers who come out are going to face consequences if we ever reestablish contact,” Rodney pointed out with ruthless logic.

 

Elizabeth sighed. “Then you probably ought to read the documents General O’Neill gave me.”

 

She unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk and handed Rodney the thick packet she’d been given by O’Neill the last time she’d been on Earth.

 

“This can’t be legal,” Rodney protested.

 

Elizabeth smiled. “How long do you think it will take to prove that in a court of law?”

 

“You can’t prove…” Rodney trailed off. “They won’t take it to court.”

 

“No, probably not,” Elizabeth replied. “And I doubt the IOA will try to retake Atlantis by force.”

 

“These papers state that if Atlantis is ever forced to declare independence from Earth, it will thereafter remain independent,” Rodney said. “How the _hell_ did O’Neill manage this?”

 

“He got them to agree to it because they never believed it would happen,” Elizabeth replied. “General O’Neill made a few threats, and they decided it would be easier to pacify him than argue.”

 

Rodney sat down heavily. “The language is very specific.”

 

“If we are abandoned or forced to declare independence, we get to keep it. O’Neill’s message made our independence certain,” Elizabeth agreed. “If anyone arrives to say differently, we would be within our rights to fight back.”

 

“So, these decisions we make regarding DADT, and any other personnel decisions…”

 

“Are permanent,” Elizabeth agreed.

 

Rodney nodded. “Good. I’m glad to know that.”

 

He stalked out of her office without any further explanation, and Elizabeth decided she really didn’t want to know.

 

She had a hundred different things to do, a thousand decisions to make. Elizabeth was responsible for the fate of the whole city; she hadn’t been ready for that sort of accountability.

 

She heard a knock on the door and glanced up to see Kate Heightmeyer standing in the doorway. “Dr. Heightmeyer. Can I help you?”

 

“I was actually wondering if I could help _you_ ,” Kate responded. “How are you?”

 

Elizabeth managed a smile. “I’m fine.”

 

Kate raised an eyebrow and sat down in the chair across from Elizabeth’s desk. “Really?”

 

“Really,” Elizabeth said firmly.

 

Kate maintained her seat, keeping her eyes on Elizabeth.

 

Elizabeth sighed. “Have you ever found yourself with more responsibility than you ever thought yourself capable of shouldering? That’s my position at the moment.”

 

“I want you to know that I’m available,” Kate said quietly. “As far as I’m concerned, the same rules of confidentiality apply.”

 

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. “Of course. I promise, I’ll come see you if necessary.”

 

“There’s no pressure, Dr. Weir,” Kate replied. “I just wanted you to know that the option was open.”

 

Elizabeth nodded, but she was grateful when Kate took the hint and left. She needed time to process, time to determine what Atlantis needed, and what her own needs were. Until her most recent trip to Earth, Elizabeth had always viewed Atlantis as a stepping-stone. Once she was done here, she would go back to Earth, get married, maybe even have a child. She had never planned on giving up her career, but she’d thought it possible to have both.

 

And then Simon had ended their relationship, and Elizabeth had been left with Atlantis. It wasn’t a bad bargain in the end, but she had never foreseen being in charge of it all, even after General O’Neill had filled her in on Operation Phoenix.

 

Earth was never supposed to need an escape hatch. Elizabeth had always relied on the knowledge that there was someone who could take over for her if she failed.

 

The whole city was operating without a safety net now, she thought. She was ultimately responsible for anything and everything that happened.

 

It was exhilarating and frightening all at once, and Elizabeth had no idea how she was supposed to feel about all of that.

 

“Sorry.”

 

She started, finally recognizing that Ronon stood in the doorway to her office. “Ronon. Hello.”

 

“You okay?” he asked.

 

Elizabeth nodded “”Yes, thank you. I’m fine. Is there something I can do for you?”

 

“I had some ideas about finding ZPMs,” Ronon replied. “Sheppard was busy.”

 

Elizabeth forced a smile. “Of course. Come in.”

 

He plopped himself in the chair across from Elizabeth’s desk. “You’ll be okay,” Ronon said without preamble. “You’ve got everything it takes.”

 

Elizabeth wasn’t sure she wanted to know what “everything it takes” meant. “Thank you,” she said instead, and meant it. “I would appreciate any information you have.”


	5. Breaking Up the Band

_“We were on my safe world for a week. Daniel wasn’t up to traveling, and no one was anxious to split up. When we left, Teal’c would go his own way, and we’d go ours. Plus, whatever news we got from Earth—assuming we heard anything at all—was probably going to be bad, and there was a good chance we’d be on the run for weeks. So, no one was anxious to set out.”_

 

~Interview with Vala Mal Doran

 

Cam put his hands behind his head, staring up at the puffy clouds. They’d stayed here for longer than they’d intended. Jackson had needed more than just a couple of days to recover. He’d gotten a nasty cold on top of everything else, and no one had wanted to risk the strain of planet-hopping.

 

But Jackson was feeling better, and they all knew their time here was drawing to a close.

 

“Edora,” Sam said suddenly from where she was sunning herself. “We should go to Edora.”

 

Jackson grunted. “You think Jack would send word?”

 

“I think it might be one of the worlds that the rest of the gate teams would try,” Sam replied. “No Goa’uld presence, and the folks there are personal friends of Jack. That has to mean something.”

 

“I believe it means much,” Teal’c said. He looked a little more alert than the rest of them, but even Teal’c had let down his guard in the week they’d been here. “The people of Edora are friends of General O’Neill, and they would welcome us.”

 

Cam sat up slowly. “Which world was this again?”

 

“P5C-768,” Sam said.

 

“Was that the world where General O’Neill got stranded for a few months?” Cam asked.

 

“That would be the one,” Jackson replied. He was still stretched out, Vala lying close by. She’d stuck by Jackson’s side for the most part, taking care of him with the few supplies they had. Cam didn’t profess to understand what was going on between them, but Jackson had needed someone to look after him this last week.

 

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. “I believe that Edora would be a good place to begin our search for information.”

 

“Edora it is, then,” Cam said. “Unless someone wants to raise an objection.” Silence followed, and he shrugged. “Okay, then. We leave tomorrow, I guess. I’m going to get cleaned up.”

 

The pond wasn’t a bad option for washing off the worst of the grime, but it was no hot shower. Cam unlaced his boots and stripped out of his pants, and then waded into the pond wearing nothing but his skin. He wasn’t too surprised when Jackson followed him a few minutes later.

 

“Sam and Vala said we shouldn’t be too long,” he said. “They want their turn, too.”

 

Cam shrugged. “You okay with this idea?”

 

Jackson began removing his clothes clumsily, still hampered by his injured left arm. “I think Sam is right. Edora is as good a place as any to start.”

 

“You think it’s safe?”

 

“Edora really isn’t on the radar,” Jackson replied, wading into the water. “There’s naquadah in the soil, but there are other planets where it’s easier to mine. Earth still sends medical supplies there, but it’s considered humanitarian aid, not trade.”

 

Cam ducked down under the surface and then wiped water out of his eyes. “In other words, the Trust probably thinks it’s a worthless planet.”

 

“Probably.” Jackson followed Cam’s example, ducking down under the water. “It’s worth a shot, and I don’t think it’s going to put us at more risk than we already are.”

 

“Fair enough,” Cam replied. He finished rinsing off and got out of the water. He probably should have brought a shirt to dry off with, but they’d all taken to wearing as little as possible with the hot weather and lack of clean clothes. Cam swiped as much water off as he could, then pulled his BDUs back on over still-damp skin.

 

Cam sprawled in the grass a few feet away, waiting for Jackson to finish up. “Have Sam and Vala talked about what happened?” Cam asked, trying for a casual tone.

 

Jackson shot him a look. “I’m not going to betray any confidences, Cam.”

 

“I’m not asking you to,” Cam replied. “I’m asking if they’re okay.”

 

Jackson shrugged. He got out and dried off with his shirt. “Short term? They’re both tough, and they know how to put things aside to focus on the mission. Long term? I don’t know. It’s hard to say with Vala; she’s probably weathered worse. But for Sam, it might depend on what we find out about Jack.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Cam replied.

 

Jackson lowered himself to the ground next to Cam carefully. “Sam and Jack—they waited a long time. They’re close.”

 

“I got that,” Cam replied. “I’ve known Sam since the Academy, you know?”

 

“So I’ve heard.” After a week, the swelling in Jackson’s face had finally gone down, and Cam could see the mottled bruising on his left side where the Jaffa had broken ribs. “For whatever it’s worth, I believe this is the right call, Colonel.”

 

“Oh, I think we can drop rank,” Cam said. “We’re refugees. Rank doesn’t matter a whole hell of a lot now.”

 

Jackson glanced over. “Are you okay?”

 

“Not really,” Cam said honestly. “I miss my folks.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, his voice sincere. “I hadn’t really thought how hard this would be for you.”

 

“It’s hard for all of us,” Cam replied.

 

“You have family on Earth.”

 

“So do you,” Cam quickly said. “I know what team means, Jackson.”

 

Jackson gave him a serious look. “I know you do.”

 

Cam rubbed his eyes. “Come on. Let’s let the women have their turn.”

 

Even though they’d made a decision, no one seemed happy with it. To Cam, going to Edora seemed like just another way to postpone breaking up the band. Eventually, they would _have_ to split up, and while he didn’t want to hasten that day, he also wanted to get it over with.

 

Cam didn’t sleep well that night, and he was awake long before anyone else. He rose and dressed in the clothing they’d traded for in the village. He doubted they’d be wearing their uniforms until they made it to Atlantis.

 

Assuming they made it to Atlantis, of course.

 

The others moved slowly, engaging in stilted, desultory conversation as they packed up, but they walked in silence. Cam led the way, glad for the quiet. For the last week, they’d all been able to put off thinking about what happened next—and now the moment was here, and they’d have to face whatever information they discovered on Edora.

 

When they arrived at the gate, Sam dialed the address without being told. The gate whooshed into life, and Cam glanced at Sam. “You want to lead the way, or should I?”

 

“I’ll go. Some of them know me. If they’re guarding the gate, that might help.” Sam walked through without saying anything more.

 

“I guess I’ll bring up the rear,” Cam muttered. “Go on.”

 

Vala and Jackson walked through side-by-side, with Teal’c close behind. Cam followed, and felt the gate close behind him.

 

“This way,” Sam called.

 

Cam stuck to his position at the rear of the group, keeping a hand on his P-90, alert for any sign of danger. They hadn’t been walking long when they approached a small collection of thatched houses, their exteriors neatly plastered. Cam could see signs of an Earth presence here and there in newer equipment and nylon ropes. Nothing too obvious, but Cam knew what to look for.

 

Someone sent up a shout as they approached, and women and children began to emerge from inside the houses. Most of the faces were curious, with no hint of apprehension, and Cam relaxed slightly.

 

If the Edorans weren’t frightened of strangers, chances were good that Cam’s team didn’t have anything to worry about.

 

Cam knew that General O’Neill had gotten close to one woman in particular while he’d been stranded on the planet, and he spotted her immediately by the flash of recognition that crossed her face when she saw Sam. She was in her late-forties, early-fifties, and she took two quick steps forward, faltering as she searched each of their faces. Cam could see the desperate hope in her eyes, quickly replaced by disappointment.

 

“Major Carter,” the woman said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

 

“Just Sam, please.” Sam didn’t bother correcting the woman about her rank. “It’s good to see you again, Laira.”

 

Laira nodded, her lips tightly compressed. “And Dr. Jackson and Teal’c.”

 

“This is Cam and Vala,” Sam said, indicating each of them in turn.

 

Laira smiled shakily. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Why don’t you come and have a drink and a bite to eat?”

 

Sam sat at the table with Laira, and Cam motioned for Jackson to take the other available chair. The rest of them stood around the room, accepting the cool, clear well water Laira offered. Laira sliced up bread and spread it with butter. Cam wasn’t hungry, but he took a slice to avoid insulting her.

 

“I’m sorry,” Laira said quietly. “When I saw you, I thought—I hoped.”

 

Sam reached out and clasped her hand. “I know. I’d hoped, too. I thought if Jack got free, he might come here.”

 

Laira nodded. “Fourteen days ago, seven people came through the stone ring—one woman and six men. The men didn’t give their names, but she said her name was Carrie.”

 

Cam straightened, catching the quick look Jackson threw his way. O’Neill had apparently sent Carolyn Lam through the gate, which seemed to indicate that not all was well with General Landry.

 

Sam nodded. “Did they say anything?”

 

“Carrie said that Jack had stayed behind to close the stone ring.” Laira stared down at her hands. “When I saw you, I thought maybe—”

 

“We weren’t on Earth,” Sam said softly. “We didn’t know what had happened until we tried to dial home.”

 

Laira looked up to meet Sam’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I know how close you were.”

 

“How long did Carrie and the others stay?” Jackson asked gently.

 

“Not long. They said that if anyone asked about them, we were to tell the truth—that they had only passed through, and we didn’t know where they were going. I made sure that no one watched them go through the ring.” Laira looked at each of them in turn. “They said they couldn’t risk being followed.”

 

“We can’t either,” Cam said quietly. “Laira, do you mind if we take a moment to talk?”

 

Laira managed a smile. “Take all the time you need. I should tell Garan you’re here. He’d be sorry not to say hello.”

 

Once the door had closed behind Laira, Sam put her head in her hands. “He’s leading them away,” she said. “Jack’s making sure no one follows us—any of us.”

 

“We can’t stay here,” Cam said. “We can’t risk it. We can’t risk these people.”

 

“No, we can’t,” Jackson said slowly, his words measured. He rubbed his eyes. “Teal’c? What do you think?”

 

“I must go to Dakara,” Teal’c replied. “I have only a few days’ supply of tretonin left, and my place is with my people.” He squatted down next to Sam’s chair. “Colonel Carter, I will speak with Master Bra’tac. If we can find General O’Neill, we will do so. We will send him to you if we can.”

 

“I know you will, Teal’c,” Sam managed. “Maybe we should—”

 

Jackson reached out for Sam’s hand. “Sam.”

 

“I know,” Sam repeated, taking a deep breath. “Vala, what do you think?”

 

Vala walked over to the single, small window. “There’s a world that serves as a trading hub for the more unsavory sorts. I would recommend going there and stealing a ship.”

 

“Unsavory sorts?” Cam asked wryly. “Doesn’t that include you?”

 

Vala gave him a cool look, one eyebrow raised. “I might have been a thief, Cameron, but I didn’t make a habit of trading on human misery.”

 

“Mitchell,” Jackson growled a warning. He had been protective of Vala over the last week, making Cam think he knew something about what had gone on in that Goa’uld prison.

 

Cam held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

 

“These people are murderers who kill others for fun and profit, and slavers,” Vala said. “They really are very bad people.”

 

“I’m sorry, Vala,” Cam said sincerely. “I get that they’re a different kind of people. So, what’s the plan?”

 

“We find one of those very bad people, we kill them, and we take their ship,” Vala said bluntly.

 

“Kill them?” Jackson asked, sounding just as alarmed as Cam felt. That same alarm was reflected on Sam’s face, too.

 

“How else are we going to make sure they don’t chase us down?” Vala asked pragmatically. “We don’t have Marines at our disposal anymore, Daniel. We aren’t even going to have Muscles around. I promise, we will find people the universe won’t miss.”

 

Cam blew out a breath. “Slavers, you said?”

 

Vala nodded. “Or weapons dealers. We’ll find some just for you, Colonel.”

 

“Sam?” Cam inquired.

 

“We have to get to Atlantis,” Sam said. “Sometimes you have a break a few eggs.”

 

“That sounds like something Jack would say,” Jackson murmured.

 

Sam shrugged. “We’ve spent enough time together.”

 

“Okay, one thing at a time,” Cam said. “We can’t stay here. There’s too much risk.”

 

“We leave now,” Sam said. “Teal’c dials Dakara, or wherever, and we dial the place Vala knows.”

 

“I believe it’s for the best, Colonel Carter,” Teal’c murmured.

 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know.” She finished the last of her water. “We should say goodbye to Laira and Garan.”

 

Laira was approaching when they emerged from the house, a young man in tow. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and he smiled broadly when he saw them. “Sam! Dr. Jackson!”

 

“Daniel,” Jackson insisted. “You’re looking well, Garan.”

 

Garan shrugged, although a proud, pleased smile stole across his face. “That’s mostly Naytha’s doing.”

 

“How is she?” Jackson asked, showing every sign of sincerity. Cam was amazed once again at Jackson’s ability to make connections and remember faces and personal details.

 

Garan waved, and a young woman about his age walked over, a child on her hip. “Daniel, Sam, Teal’c, you remember Naytha. And this is my son, Jack.”

 

A real smile broke over Sam’s face. “Really? Jack’s going to go nuts when he hears he has a namesake.”

 

Garan smiled. “We’re expecting our second child.”

 

“Congratulations,” Sam said sincerely. “That’s wonderful.”

 

Laira glanced at them. “You have to leave.”

 

“We can’t put you at risk, Laira,” Jackson said quietly. “You, or Garan, or anyone else. It’s the same reason that the others left so quickly.”

 

Laira nodded. “If you can, will you send word?”

 

“I will send word,” Teal’c promised. “I give you my oath.”

 

She nodded. “Then we don’t want to know where you’re going.”

 

“I think that’s for the best,” Sam replied.

 

Cam watched as Laira hugged Sam, and he wondered how it was they’d come to an understanding, given that they both obviously loved O’Neill.

 

Or maybe that was why they’d connected. Cam had never professed to understand women.

 

“Thanks for the hospitality,” Cam said as they took their leave.

 

“Fair day,” Laira responded.

 

“Fair day,” Daniel murmured in reply.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam thought it might have been harder to see Laira, but she knew that the other woman loved Jack. And really, if anyone could understand the loyalty and love that Jack could engender, Laira could.

 

Laira had clung to her briefly, whispering for Sam’s ears alone, “I’m so sorry.”

 

And if anyone understood what it was like to lose Jack to duty, Laira would.

 

Teal’c stepped up to the DHD and began dialing, his movements quick and graceful. Sam watched him, feeling numb. First Jack, and now Teal’c—only she and Daniel were left of the original team. Even though they’d said goodbye before, there was always the option of meeting up again on Earth. This was different.

 

This felt _permanent_.

 

The wormhole formed, and Teal’c turned to clasp Cam’s arm. “Take care of yourself, big guy,” Cam ordered

 

Teal’c lowered his head in a gesture of respect and handed Cam his staff weapon. Daniel didn’t wait for Teal’c to approach; he pulled Teal’c into a tight embrace. Teal’c whispered something in Daniel’s ear that Sam couldn’t hear, and Daniel nodded. “Good luck, Teal’c,” Daniel said, his voice hoarse.

 

Vala hugged Teal’c, which was new. Vala had shied away with contact from anyone other than Sam and Daniel over the last week. “Take care of yourself, Muscles.”

 

“You do the same, Vala Mal Doran.” Teal’c turned to look at Sam, and she hugged him hard, feeling Teal’c’s warm, strong arms around her. “I will save him if I can, Colonel Samantha Carter.”

 

“If anyone can, it’s you,” Sam replied. “And Teal’c? If you get a chance to get to Earth, check on Cassie?”

 

“Of course,” he promised, and then released her, collected his staff weapon from Cam, and walked to the gate. He turned just before he stepped through the event horizon, lifted his hand in a solemn farewell, and then he was gone.

 

“All right, Vala, where are we going?” Cam asked once the wormhole had blinked out.

 

They purposely hadn’t made the decision while Teal’c was still around, just in case—and other than knowing Teal’c was going to find Master Bra’tac, they didn’t know where Teal’c was going either.

 

“There’s a world used as a hub for various black market activities,” Vala replied. “We’re going to need a cover story, though. What are we going to say we’re buying or selling?”

 

“Goa’uld and Ancient technology,” Daniel said readily. “You and Sam can use Goa’uld devices because you were hosts, and I’m your translator.”

 

“And me?” Cam asked.

 

Vala grinned at him. “You can be our muscle.”

 

Cam rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Vala.”

 

“Everyone has their own talents,” Vala replied.

 

Sam snorted. “We’re going to need a pilot, Cam.”

 

“That’s a little better than being the hired muscle,” Cam replied. “All right, people. Let’s go find ourselves a ship.”

 

Going through the gate was still an adventure for Sam; she’d never quite gotten over that rush stepping on alien soil for the first time, but it was heavily undercut by weariness now.

 

All soil was alien when there was no chance of going home.

 

Vala moved through the crowds in the bazaar with confidence, her shoulders back, tendrils of dark hair blowing around her face. Daniel stayed close to her side, his expression and body language quietly menacing. Sam wondered if Daniel realized how protective he’d become of Vala over the last week or two.

 

Cam stayed next to Sam, his shoulder just brushing hers. “What do you think it means that General O’Neill sent Carrie off-world?” he asked in a low voice.

 

Sam winced. “Nothing good. My guess is that Landry was one of those compromised or killed—but probably compromised.”

 

“Fuck,” Cam said succinctly.

 

“That’s one way to put it.”

 

“How are you doing, Sam?”

 

The quiet question had Sam blinking rapidly, trying to control her emotions. “I’m okay. I’m trying not to think about it, to be honest.”

 

“Sorry,” Cam said.

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Thanks for asking. What about you?”

 

“I worry about my folks,” he confessed. “I know I don’t get to see them all that often, but now that I know I _can’t_ see them…” He trailed off. “You know.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Sam said.

 

Cam bumped her shoulder companionably. “You notice the thing?” he asked with a deliberate nod towards Daniel and Vala.

 

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“Guess we’ll have to stick together then,” Cam said with a conspiratorial smile.

 

“Guess we will. Thanks.”

 

“Any time.”

 

Vala suddenly called out, “Reese!”

 

Sam stayed on Vala’s heels as they forced their way through the crowd. Cam put a hand on Sam’s lower back, staying just behind and to the right of her, keeping in close contact. Sam tried not to think about how differently Jack would have handled this situation. He would have insisted on leading the charge, trusting Sam or Teal’c to bring up the rear.

 

She never wanted to compare Cam’s leadership style with Jack’s, but it seemed inevitable. The brass had put Cam in charge of SG-1, after all—at least nominally.  Even if Cam didn’t think of himself that way, it didn’t change the facts.

 

As they made their way through the crowd to a stall on the edge of the market square, Sam felt Cam drop just slightly behind her, and Sam knew he was watching her back.

 

Vala was greeting a short, paunchy man whose long, thinning hair was pulled back in a braid. She bussed his cheek and turned to introduce Daniel, and then Sam and Cam.

 

Reese gave them a narrow-eyed look. “Are you all related?”

 

“Not quite,” Vala replied. “Can we talk?”

 

Reese nodded. “Tonight? I’m not ready to close up just yet.”

 

“We’ll wait for you in the tavern,” Vala promised, “if that’s agreeable.”

 

Reese shrugged. “See you then.”

 

Vala led them out of the crowds to a small tavern a little removed from the market square. They had a little more breathing room there, and they stood in a small knot at the entrance to a rather dubious-looking alley.

 

“We have a few hours before Reese will be ready to talk,” Vala said. “He’ll know when the next few ships are due, and what they’ll likely be carrying.”

 

“What are you thinking, Vala?” Sam asked.

 

Vala shrugged. “It depends on how quickly we want to move, and how heavily guarded the ships are.”

 

“And what they’re carrying?” Cam suggested. “I’d rather stay on the right side of the law as much as we can.”

 

“There’s no law out here, Cameron,” Vala replied. “This is an area of the galaxy run by the Lucian Alliance, among other minor criminal organizations. If we steal a ship, we’ll need to make sure they aren’t going to follow us.”

 

“I don’t like the idea of killing people in cold blood,” Daniel said slowly.

 

Vala raised her eyebrows. “When we take their ship, they’ll shoot at us. Will you have any problem shooting back?”

 

Daniel glared at her. “No, of course not. It’s just—we’re talking about stealing a _ship_.”

 

“It’s really not very hard,” Vala said. “I stole yours, didn’t I?”

 

Sam swallowed her laughter, and she caught Cam’s smirk out of the corner of her eye. “Okay, I think we can all agree that we’re going to have to steal a ship,” Sam said.

 

“Not unless we’re going to steal a generator with enough power to dial Pegasus,” Cam said. “A ship is our best bet. You on board with that, Jackson?”

 

Daniel rubbed his eye—the one that wasn’t still sporting a shiner. “I guess we don’t really have a choice.”

 

“No, not really,” Cam agreed. “So, what do we do while we’re waiting for your friend, Vala?”

 

“How well do you play cards?” Vala asked.

 

Sam and Daniel both shrugged, but Cam grinned. “Are you kidding? We played cards all the time when I was a kid. I learned from the best.”

 

Vala gave Cam a speculative look. “So, you have hidden depths. Well, then, let’s see if we can find a game. We could stand to make some extra cash.”

 

Sam and Daniel each bought a pint of homebrew. Sam winced when she tasted it the first time, but she didn’t say anything. They found a corner table well away from the card game going on. Cam and Vala had managed to get in on the game. Vala had flirted, and Cam had played the country bumpkin role to the hilt.

 

“You think Cam can play cards as well as he said?” Daniel asked.

 

“Hard to say,” Sam replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised. We’re all going to have to use skills we don’t normally need.”

 

Daniel sipped his ale. “Are you really okay with this plan, Sam?”

 

Sam wrapped her hands around the clay mug. “Yeah. I guess.”

 

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement,” Daniel observed.

 

“There are a lot of things I’m not exactly happy about,” Sam replied.

 

Daniel met her eyes, and Sam saw her own sorrow reflected in his face. “Yeah, I know.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jack knew he wasn’t going to evade capture much longer. He’d noticed signs of pursuit, and had caught sight of at least one man he knew to be an NID operative, but he’d either given them the slip, or they had postponed taking him into custody.

 

If Jack had to guess, he thought they might be delaying because they still thought he might lead them to others who had escaped.

 

He snorted at the thought. Like he was that stupid.

 

Jack missed his team terribly. He’d left the SGC in Landry’s capable hands because General Hammond had tapped him for the position of Director of Homeworld Security, and Jack hadn’t yet learned to say no to an appeal to his sense of duty.

 

Plus, Jack had believed he could finally do a few things he’d been putting off, and his knees weren’t going to stand up to too many more pitched battles. Going to D.C. had seemed like the answer.

 

Jack wasn’t sure why the Trust hadn’t arranged to have a snake put in his head; he knew they could have. He suspected that someone at the top of the food chain had other plans for him.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack got a glimpse of one of the operatives that had been following him for at least the last block. He had the home court advantage here; Jack had been born in Chicago, and he still knew the city. He’d mostly kept to places he’d known well in the past, but where he no longer had connections. He hadn’t wanted the Trust to get any ideas.

 

Jack broke into a jog, trying to lose himself in the busy foot traffic along the Navy Pier. He’d lose his tail, and then he’d skip town, maybe head north. The Trust was getting too close, but it was still largely an American organization. If he could get to Canada, he might be able to elude capture for a little longer.

 

Every resource the Trust had to spend looking for Jack was a resource they couldn’t use to go after his people.

 

The crowds thinned out a bit, and Jack tried to keep his pace to a quick walk. Running would be a sure way to draw attention. He just needed to—

 

He caught sight of someone approaching from his right, and Jack turned, all senses on alert. This is why he needed his team with him, to keep an eye on his blind side.

 

The man had a gun pointed at Jack’s midsection. “You need to come with me, General.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Jack replied, taking a step back. He had no doubt that the Trust could get away with shooting him in broad daylight, but he didn’t think they wanted to try.

 

And then Jack felt a sharp pinch at the back of his neck, and the world reeled and went dark.

 

~~~~~

 

Vala had always been a solo operator in the past, mostly out of necessity. The sort of people she usually did business with would have stabbed her in the back to get her share. Granted, Vala probably would have stolen from a partner given half a chance, but she’d have been a lot sneakier about it.

 

She’d never been interested in killing people. Stealing, swindling, cheating, sure—but not killing.

 

Now, she was part of a team, and she had begun to see that there were definite benefits. While Vala often got kicked out of card games for cheating, this time she and Cam had managed to win far more than they’d lost between the two of them. And, since they had both won hands and lost hands, no one had accused them of cheating.

 

Vala counted their winnings cheerfully as Cam nursed his tankard of rather poor ale.

 

“How did you guys make out?” Sam asked in a low voice.

 

Vala grinned. “Like bandits. We need to rent a room while we wait for an appropriate ship.”

 

“Are we sure they’ll land, instead of using rings?” Daniel asked.

 

“Rings aren’t allowed,” Vala replied. “All unloading is done on the ground.”

 

“Why?” Sam inquired.

 

Vala shrugged. “It’s a security measure. If someone reneges on a deal, their ship can be held until they pay up.”

 

“Makes sense,” Cam agreed cautiously.

 

Having finished with a final count, Vala began to divide up the spoils with a purely internal sigh of regret. “It’s safer if we each carry a portion,” she explained.

 

“Great,” Daniel said without enthusiasm.

 

Vala gave him a curious look.

 

“I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” Daniel said. “I think we should avoid that if at all possible.”

 

“Works for me,” Cam replied. “When is your friend supposed to get here, Vala?”

 

Vala glanced up at the door just as Reese walked in. “He’s here now.”

 

Reese had a word with the man behind the bar and then joined them, settling onto the chair they’d kept open. “First off, Vala, I don’t want to know what you and your friends are planning.”

 

“We wouldn’t dream of telling you our plans,” Vala replied with an insincere smile.

 

Reese snorted. “So, what do you want to know?”

 

“What kinds of shipments are expected in the next few days?”

 

Accepting the tankard the server delivered, Reese responded. “The usual—weapons, trinkets, perhaps slaves. What are you buying?”

 

“Goa’uld and Ancient technology,” Vala lied easily. “There’s a booming market.”

 

Reese shrugged. “Says you. From what I understand, you have to have some special power to work that stuff. It’s like magic.”

 

“Not magic,” Daniel murmured.

 

“Looks like magic to most,” Reese replied. “So, you want word when someone brings that kind of tech in?”

 

Vala nodded. “That would be appreciated. But we’d also like word about the next shipment of weapons or slaves.”

 

Reese gave her a sharp look. “Looking to expand your business?”

 

“Always.”

 

“Then I’ll send word when the first ship meeting your requirements arrives,” Reese said. “I assume you’ll want to put in the first bid on the cargo.”

 

“Of course,” Vala replied.

 

Reese shrugged. “Now, about dinner…”

 

“I’m starving,” Cam said. “What’s good here?”

 

They had a pleasant enough dinner. Vala kept the conversation light and away from problematic subjects. Reese was thankfully uninterested in their pasts or even what they currently wanted to do. Once Reese had finished eating, Vala slipped him some of their recent winnings as a down payment on the information.

 

No one asked her any questions until they were in the room they had paid for, when Cam asked, “Can he be trusted?”

 

Vala shrugged. “No, he can’t, which is why I didn’t tell him what our real plans were.”

 

“And we’re all staying in this room until we receive word,” Daniel said as he sat down on one of the narrow beds.

 

Vala shrugged. “We don’t have an unlimited supply of funds, and we’re all friends, Daniel. I don’t think it will kill us to share a room.”

 

“Do you think there’s a place to get a hot bath?” Sam asked with longing in her voice.

 

Vala brightened. “Oh, excellent idea. There should be a bathhouse in the back of the tavern. Care to join me?”

 

“Wait, how come you guys get to go first?” Daniel protested.

 

“Ladies first, Daniel,” Vala replied smugly.

 

Sam grinned. “Deal with it.”

 

In exchange for a few coins, they got the bathhouse to themselves, and she and Sam were soon up their necks in hot water.

 

“Oh, God,” Sam breathed fervently. “I think I’m in heaven.”

 

Vala smiled. “I agree.”

 

A companionable silence fell over the room as they soaked in their respective tubs. Vala felt the tension begin to seep out of her tired muscles. The last week had helped Vala regain some of her equilibrium. She no longer felt as though she might fly apart at any moment at least.

 

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked just as Vala had begun to think of climbing out.

 

Vala immersed herself completely, and then came up again, running her fingers through her wet hair. “I’m better,” she finally said.

 

Sam followed Vala’s example, sliding down under the water and beginning to wash her hair. “It wasn’t your fault, Vala.”

 

“I know that,” Vala replied, unable to keep the testiness out of her voice. “I’m aware of what the Goa’uld are capable of, Sam.”

 

“I’m sure you do,” Sam said mildly. “But sometimes you need to hear it.”

 

Vala unbent slightly at that. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I already know that you don’t blame me.”

 

Sam frowned. “Surely you don’t think that Cam or Daniel would think any less of you,” she protested. “They know better.”

 

“Cameron does,” Vala replied. “But Daniel… His opinion of me has never been terribly high.”

 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t think this is your fault. He wouldn’t blame you any more than he’d think getting beaten up was his fault.”

 

When Vala didn’t reply, Sam asked, “How long have you been in love with him?”

 

Vala let out a little laugh, although she knew the sound didn’t hold much humor. “Since the beginning, not that Daniel would believe me.”

 

“Daniel hasn’t had a lot of luck with love,” Sam said gently. “Give him a little time. He’s been pretty protective of you since 680.”

 

“He pities me,” Vala said bluntly.

 

“He’s sad for you,” Sam corrected her. “There’s a difference.”

 

Vala scrubbed her hands over her face. “Perhaps. What about you? I know how much you must miss General O’Neill.”

 

Sam’s voice sounded choked when she said, “I’m trying not to think about what they’ll do to him when they capture him—or what they might be doing to him already.”

 

“You know Teal’c will save him if he can.”

 

“Yeah, _if_ he can,” Sam said, despair coloring her voice. “I just—I wish he’d gone through the gate. If he’d escaped off-world, we could probably find him. We could—I don’t know. I just hate the idea of him being tortured somewhere without even the hope of rescue.”

 

Vala reached out, crossing the space between the two tubs they occupied, and Sam met her halfway. They clung to each other like a lifeline. Vala was tremendously grateful for the human contact.

 

With Sam, Vala felt no threat, no fear that there was an ulterior motive to her touch. There was only simple warmth and the knowledge that Sam was there for her.

 

It was a novel feeling, but it was one Vala could relish.

 

~~~~~

 

Daniel winced as he tried to rewrap his wrist. It still hurt, but he could still move his fingers, which was a good sign.

 

“Here, let me do that,” Vala said softly, taking the bandage from Daniel and beginning to wind it around his hand and wrist with a practiced touch.

 

“Shouldn’t Mitchell and Sam be back by now?” Daniel asked.

 

Vala shrugged. “They haven’t been gone very long. How was the bath?”

 

“Nice. I finally feel clean,” Daniel replied. Mitchell had visited the bathhouse the previous night, but Daniel had been deeply asleep by the time Sam and Vala had returned. Daniel had just taken his turn that morning. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait for a ship?”

 

“There are ships that come in every week, but we’re going to have to find one that’s in good repair, and that has a functioning hyperdrive.” Vala clipped the bandage in place. “It’s hard to say how long that will take.”

 

“Days? Weeks?”

 

“Months.” Vala shook her head. “I don’t know.”

 

He frowned and grabbed her hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ve done a lot. If you hadn’t been with us, we really would have been screwed.” He saw her shoulders move, as though she was shrugging off his words. “What’s wrong?”

 

“There’s nothing wrong,” Vala insisted.

 

“Okay,” Daniel said slowly. “Okay. Just—if you need to talk, I’m here.”

 

She gave him a sharp look, and for a moment, he thought she might rebuff him, but whatever she saw in his face must have been satisfactory, because her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

 

The door swung open to admit Sam and Mitchell. They were carrying bread and some kind of dried fruit. Daniel was surprised to even think it, but he missed the commissary’s food. He missed burgers at the diner that was located near the base, and pizza, and Thai and waffles. He missed his own bed, and his own clothes, and a hundred other things.

 

Daniel missed Jack, and he suspected that Sam was just as worried about the general as he was.

 

“There was word in the marketplace that a new ship has landed,” Sam said softly. “No word on what it’s carrying.”

 

“If it has the right cargo, Reese will let us know,” Vala said with assurance.

 

Vala’s faith in her associate wasn’t misplaced. They had just finished their breakfast when someone knocked on their door. Sam moved to the side, drawing her weapon and covering the door while Mitchell answered it.

 

“I have a message for Vala Mal Doran.” The high voice belonged to a child, a girl who looked to be about ten.

 

“I’m Vala.”

 

The girl looked at the rest of them quickly, assessing the potential threat, before refocusing on Vala. “Reese said to tell you that the ship has landed, and it has the cargo you seek. It’s just to the north of town.”

 

“Excellent,” Vala said. She pulled out a small leather pouch and shook out a couple of coins, before handing the coins and the pouch to the girl. “Take that to Reese. The coins are yours.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am,” the girl replied, executing a rough curtsey before running off.

 

Mitchell shut the door behind her. “All right. What’s our game plan?”

 

“Sam and I will check out the vessel, posing as buyers,” Vala replied.

 

Mitchell shook his head. “No. No way. We all go.”

 

“They’ll sense a threat and act accordingly,” Vala returned. She looked at Daniel. “Tell me. When you look at Sam and me, do you see a threat?”

 

Daniel hesitated, suspecting it was a trick question. Either woman could kick _his_ ass, as well as the asses of most of the people he knew—but he knew what Vala meant. “Well, knowing you both as well as I do, that’s a hard question to answer,” he prevaricated.

 

“Damn it,” Mitchell cursed, and Daniel knew they’d just lost the argument. “Why don’t you take Jackson?” he asked. “He’s injured. They’ll underestimate him, too.”

 

“Hey!” Daniel protested, feeling vaguely insulted.

 

“I think it has to be Vala and me,” Sam said apologetically. “We both know more about ship engines and what we need to get to Pegasus, and they _won’t_ think of us as a threat. We can get on board, inspect the merchandise, maybe convince them to give us the grand tour. By the time we’re off the ship, we’ll know what we need.”

 

Daniel sighed. “I don’t think we have another choice. Sam’s right.”

 

“I know she is.” Mitchell scowled. “Fine, but we’re sticking close by, so you two can send up a distress signal if you need. If it’s the right one, when are we going to do this?”

 

Sam and Vala exchanged a look. “Let’s wait and see how they respond to us,” Sam suggested. “If we can get on board the ship and take them by surprise, that might be best.”

 

“We’ll need more food,” Daniel said. “How long is it going to take to get to Atlantis, Sam?”

 

“Hard to say,” she replied. “It depends on the speed of the engines, and whether we have to stop for repairs. I’ll know more once we get a look at the ship.”

 

Mitchell nodded. “Okay, then. You two work your magic, and if the ship will suit our needs, we’ll stock up on food. We may have to make some stops along the way to supplement.”

 

“A vessel like this will likely already have food storage,” Vala said. “It might not be good food, but it will keep us going.”

 

Mitchell rubbed his eyes and set his shoulders. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

Daniel trailed the others out of the room. He _really_ didn’t like this plan, but he couldn’t see another option. They _had_ to get to Pegasus, and this was the best way to get there.

 

But that didn’t mean he had to like the idea of turning brigand.


	6. Digging In

_“Spending time with the Athosians was the easy part. They’re good hosts, and there’s something about two weeks spent mostly outdoors that puts everything in perspective. I don’t think anyone on Atlantis had a problem working with them after a couple of weeks on the mainland. And we all knew how important it was to have a steady supply of food. Sheppard wanted to go first, but I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be away from Atlantis for two weeks with everything that had been going on. In the end, we flipped a coin, and I won.”_

 

~Interview with Evan Lorne

 

John watched as Lorne and the others finished stowing their gear in the jumpers. He was flying one of them, but the other jumper was staying with Lorne on the mainland, just in case.

 

John had to admit that he wasn’t too happy about losing the coin toss, nor did he like the thought of being without his second-in-command for two weeks. He’d come to rely on Lorne quite a bit over the last few months.

 

“All right, kids,” John called. “Just remember, you’re helping out, but you’re also guests. Let’s be on our best behavior.”

 

A ragged chorus of “yes, sirs” came back, and John walked up the ramp and settled himself in the pilot’s seat. Sergeant Mehra took the co-pilot’s seat, even though she didn’t have the gene, and John waited until they were loaded up to begin the take-off protocols.

 

The jumper responded as readily as it ever did, and soon the sea stretched out before him. “So, what are we looking at, Colonel?” Mehra asked, breaking into John’s thoughts.

 

“Two weeks of doing whatever Halling tells you to do,” John replied. “Or Lorne. Doesn’t matter, either way.”

 

“But _why_?” Mehra pressed.

 

“Because, if we help the Athosians, we get enough food to hold us over through the year, Sergeant,” John drawled. “Piece of cake, if you think you can handle it.”

 

“Oh, I can handle it,” Mehra assures him. “No problem. I just wondered, you know?”

 

John smiled. “I know. Just don’t give Halling or Lorne a hard time.”

 

“Sir, no, sir,” Mehra shot back with a grin.

 

John smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.”

 

He dropped his people off on the mainland and made plans with Lorne for daily check-ins. John knew that was probably overkill, but he’d just broken Lorne in, and he didn’t want to take any chances.

 

John got back to Atlantis just in time to grab lunch and make the meeting with Elizabeth and the rest of his team to discuss possible locations for ZPMs. Ronon had produced a list of every planet he’d ever been to with weird myths, strange ruins, or wild rumors of power, and they were all anxious to get going.

 

“I still think we should start with the sanctuary planet,” Rodney insisted. “There are no guarantees we’ll find a ZedPM on any of these other worlds.”

 

“There aren’t any guarantees if we go back to that planet,” John replied, holding his irritation in check with some effort. “Teer held the door open so we could leave. If we go, back, we might not get out, and I, for one, don’t want to get stuck there again.”

 

“I can solve the problem!” Rodney protested. “I didn’t even have the opportunity to _try_.”

 

“And if you can’t?” John demanded. “We’ll die of old age, and _then_ where will Atlantis be? You’re the one who keeps insisting that you’re invaluable.”

 

Rodney shot him a hurt look. “I _am_ invaluable. And indispensable.”

 

“Can’t forget that,” John muttered.

 

“Gentlemen,” Elizabeth broke in, and John knew that tone. She was doing her best to be diplomatic even though her own patience was strained. “John is right, Rodney. There’s too much of a risk that you won’t be able to get out again, and we can’t do without either of you, especially since we have no idea what kind of power is left.”

 

Rodney sighed and slumped back in his chair, accepting Elizabeth’s decree, at least for the moment. “Fine. So, where do we start?”

 

“Ronon?” Elizabeth prompted. “What would you suggest?”

 

Ronon gave her a surprised look, and then glanced at John. “Me?”

 

“You’re the one who came up with the intel,” John replied. “What do you think our best bet is?”

 

Ronon hesitated, but he stabbed his finger at one of the addresses on the list projected on the wall. “This one. There were rumors of a temple. The locals worship the Ancients. Sheppard’s gene will help.”

 

“How would we convince them to let us have access?” John asked.

 

Ronon grinned. “Tell ‘em you’re one of the Ancients returned to Atlantis.”

 

Teyla cleared her throat. “You would have us lie?”

 

Ronon shrugged. “Same difference, especially if we’re going to kill Wraith.”

 

“I’d rather not lie,” Elizabeth said slowly. “But there’s nothing wrong with letting people _assume_.”

 

John saw the look she shared with Teyla, and he could tell they were doing that silent communication thing they sometimes did.

 

“I believe that we may want to wait and see what’s required of us,” Teyla said. “I do not know these people.”

 

“Ronon?” Elizabeth prompted.

 

Ronon shrugged. “They’re farmers, herders. We could trade.”

 

“Then that will be your mission,” Elizabeth said. “Make contact, find out whether they’re viable trading partners, and discover whether they have a ZPM. If they do, go from there. John, you know what we have to trade and what we need. Let’s not make an enemy out of them if we can avoid it.”

 

That was a dismissal if John had ever heard one, and he nodded. “Tomorrow?”

 

“You have a go,” Elizabeth confirmed. “You leave at 1000.”

 

“We’ve got time for a run,” Ronon said with a feral grin directed at John. “Teyla?”

 

“I believe I will pass,” Teyla replied. “But thank you for the invitation.”

 

Ronon shrugged easily. “Your loss. McKay?”

 

“I have better things to do,” Rodney huffed. “I get plenty of practice running from people trying to shoot us.”

 

Ronon shrugged. “Fine.”

 

“Is there anything else?” John asked Elizabeth.

 

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

 

“John?” Teyla asked. “Are you still interested in sparring?”

 

“Absolutely,” he replied.

 

John thought he spotted Rodney giving him a significant look, trying to get his attention, but he ignored the signal. Right now, John needed the release and the focus of physical activity. He noticed that Ronon stayed behind, though, half-sitting on the table as he talked with Elizabeth in low tones.

 

John shrugged it off with a smirk. It was none of his business.

 

It was a relief to get to the gym, where John could forget the cares of the day, the responsibilities that burdened him, and the knowledge that they were fighting a losing battle. In this space, all that mattered were the _bantos_ rods, the smack of wood on flesh, and the drip of sweat down his face and back.

 

He was pleased when he got a couple of good strikes in on Teyla, which was more than he’d managed since the news had come in from Earth. He’d been distracted lately, and incapable of focusing on the purely physical demands that sparring with Teyla offered.

 

John mopped up the sweat from his face, and grinned at Teyla. “Good workout. Thanks.”

 

“You did well today,” Teyla replied. “You’re more focused.”

 

“I’ve had some time to get used to things,” John admitted. “How are you?”

 

Teyla shot him a surprised look. “Me? I’m quite well, John. Nothing has changed for me.”

 

“No, I guess not,” John said. He sometimes forgot that Teyla hadn’t always been part of his team, part of the expedition. Teyla was as much a part of his life now anyone else had ever been, and he offered a smile. “Thanks for hanging in there with us.”

 

“Where else would I go?” she asked, but her smile suggested that it was a rhetorical question. She put her hands on John’s shoulders and brought his forehead to hers. “Will I see you at dinner tonight?”

 

“Probably,” John replied. “But if not, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

 

John headed back to his quarters, feeling warm and loose from the exertion and Teyla’s words. He was surprised to see Rodney sitting on the floor next to his quarters, working on a tablet propped against his bent legs.

 

“Rodney,” John greeted him. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Can I come in?” Rodney asked. “I thought you’d be back before now.”

 

“Seriously, you time my sessions?” John asked.

 

Rodney shrugged. “You usually take about an hour. It’s not hard to figure out. So?”

 

“Yeah, come in,” John invited, waving Rodney inside.

 

Rodney immediately sat in the chair in front of John’s desk, watching as John gathered clean clothing. “You want to wait while I grab a shower?” John asked.

 

“Sure,” Rodney shrugged. “I’ll wait.”

 

John pushed his questions aside, focusing on getting clean under the spray of warm water, staying in the shower a little longer than he probably should have. The hot water felt good on his sore muscles, and he stayed in until the last of his tension had dissipated.

 

Rodney was still waiting when John emerged in clean BDUs, and John found his curiosity piqued. “What’s up?” John asked, sprawling on his bed.

 

“I think I have a solution to your problem.”

 

John blinked, trying to figure out what problem Rodney was referring to, and how Rodney might help. “Okay…”

 

“You haven’t had a date in how long?” Rodney asked.

 

John _really_ didn’t like where this was going. “Excuse me?”

 

“You said that you weren’t going to have sex with anyone under your command, or anybody who might screw your chances at a trade agreement.” Rodney set his tablet aside.

 

John recognized the action as an indication that Rodney’s entire attention was on him. “That’s what I said,” John said slowly. “So what?”

 

“So, I think I have a solution.”

 

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” John asked rhetorically.

 

Rodney leaned forward. “I’m not in your chain of command.”

 

“Yes, you are,” John replied as patiently as he could. “You’re on my team.”

 

“Are you going to pull Dr. Anson off of Reeves’ team?” Rodney demanded.

 

John blinked, momentarily thrown by Rodney getting the men’s names right. “Uh, no, not unless it becomes an issue.”

 

“Exactly,” Rodney replied, as though John had just proved the point. “What I’m proposing is a mutually beneficial relationship.”

 

John felt his eyebrows go up. “You want to be fuck buddies.”

 

“Yes,” Rodney said, “although I don’t think I would have put it that way.”

 

John looked up at the ceiling and wondered when this had become his life. “Fine, friends with benefits.”

 

“Right,” Rodney said. “I know I’m not your usual type, but I’ve been told I’m quite skilled in bed.”

 

John began to laugh, helpless to do anything else. “You don’t know what my type is, McKay, and I’m not going to be your big gay experiment.”

 

Rodney hand-waved that away. “Oh, please, Colonel. Don’t flatter yourself. I experimented _plenty_ in college. And while, yes, I prefer women, I haven’t had much luck in that department. This way, we can both have sex, and we don’t have to worry about messy romantic entanglements.”

 

John flopped back on his bed and put an arm over his eyes. “I don’t think that’s going to work,” he said.

 

“Why not?” Rodney demanded. “You have to admit that it’s an elegant solution. We both get sex, and we stay friends.”

 

The whole conversation was so surreal that John couldn’t quite believe it was happening. This was _McKay_ , and John had half-wanted him since he’d sat down in that damn chair in Antarctica and heard Rodney say, “Major, think about where we are in the solar system.”

 

Up until this very moment, John had been able to push the attraction aside, and he knew that if anyone other than Rodney had proposed this arrangement, he probably would have accepted. He was a little tired of getting by with his right hand for company, and hell, John _liked_ sex. He just didn’t get it very often.

 

The problem was that there was no way John could keep it casual with Rodney. No fucking way.

 

“It’s never going to be casual.” John spoke before he could think better of it.

 

He heard Rodney shift. “Why not?”

 

John pulled his arm away from his face and fixed Rodney with a glare. “Because it’s _never_ going to be casual.”

 

Rodney’s eyes went wide, and John wondered why he couldn’t have _uncomplicated_ friendships. Why couldn’t he have a friend who liked to watch football and drink beer, and maybe exchange the occasional hand-job with? _Without_ having to talk about it.

 

Why the hell did he have to have a crush on Rodney fucking McKay?

 

“I’m not _pining_ ,” John added, putting his arm back over his face. “I’m just saying that casual isn’t a possibility.”

 

Rodney was quiet for far too long, and when John peeked, Rodney’s cheeks were pink, and he looked rather pleased with himself. “Understood.”

 

“Are we okay?” John asked plaintively.

 

Rodney nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Absolutely. The conversation is already forgotten.”

 

“Good. Thanks,” John replied.

 

“Do you want to get dinner together tonight?” Rodney asked, his expression holding a naked vulnerability that John found hard to witness. “If you’re interested. If you—”

 

“Yeah,” John said, cutting him off. “That would be great. Around 1800?”

 

Rodney nodded jerkily. “Yes, of course. Perfect.”

 

He left quickly after that, and John sighed. He just hoped that this newest revelation didn’t make things awkward.

 

~~~~~

 

“You’ve been spending more time with Elizabeth,” Teyla noted, keeping her voice down so that John and Rodney didn’t hear her.

 

Ronon shrugged. “She’s got a lot going on.”

 

“She does,” Teyla agreed. “I’m sure she appreciates the support.”

 

Ronon shot her a knowing look. “And you?”

 

Teyla shook her head. “I have quite enough to do. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

 

“We’ll be with your people for two weeks,” Ronon pointed out. “Maybe you’ll make a friend.”

 

Teyla rolled her eyes. “I have friends.”

 

“I know,” Ronon replied equably. “I just thought you might make a _close_ friend.”

 

Teyla shook her head, not dignifying that comment with a reply. Ronon had a mischievous sense of humor, and he wasn’t opposed to responding to responding to gentle teasing with commentary of his own.

 

Teyla got the message loud and clear; if she mentioned the time he spent with Elizabeth, Ronon would comment on her love life, or lack thereof.

 

She headed to the gate room, making sure her pack was settled on her shoulders. John did his usual once-over of the entire team, checking straps and buckles to make sure everything was secure. Teyla had long since grown used to John’s obsessive need to make sure his team was safe.

 

“Dial her up!” John called.

 

The chevrons lit one by one, and John settled his P-90 in the crook of his arm before he walked through. Rodney followed, with Teyla close behind him, leaving Ronon to watch their backs.

 

M3X-476 was a green, forested planet, much like the others they’d visited. There was a well-worn path leading away from the gate, which John began to follow as soon as Ronon had emerged from the event horizon. They fanned out behind John as the wormhole closed.

 

After a short, pleasant walk, they crested a hill, and a village appeared in the distance. They were halfway down the hill when a contingent of locals met them. “Welcome to Ebrus!” the woman at the head of the procession said. “We are always happy to greet visitors who come through the Ring of the Ancestors.”

 

Teyla wasn’t so sure about that, but she kept her mouth shut. John spoke for all of them when he said, “Thank you. I’m Colonel John Sheppard of Atlantis. This is Dr. Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen of the Athosians, and Ronon Dex of Sateda.” John pointed to each of them in turn. “We’re interested in finding trading partners.”

 

“Then you are welcome,” the woman said. “I am Brista, daughter of Brinak.”

 

“Brista,” John said smoothly. “Thank you for the welcome.”

 

They headed towards the village, and Teyla remained alert for any signs of danger or duplicity, although she sensed nothing untoward.

 

Brista led them to a long table in the midst of the village square, where there were platters of bread and fruit. “Please, break your fast with us,” Brista invited.

 

“We don’t mind if we do,” John replied with his most charming grin. “Thank you.”

 

Teyla picked at the platters that passed in front of her—a piece of bread, a piece of fruit, a cup of tea. She knew how to appear to eat while consuming little. John kept up a steady patter of conversation, explaining that they were from the city of the Ancestors, and that they had come to trade, while Teyla filled in the occasional detail.

 

Mostly, Teyla watched the faces of their hosts for any sign of dishonesty, or discomfort, or any one of a hundred signs that things were about to go terribly wrong. Brista and the others followed John’s words like _tulpa_ flowers following the sun.

 

John was no politician, but he had a way of speaking, a way of seeming to make connections without giving too much away.

 

Teyla stepped into the opening John left for her to discuss trade goods. Brista asked one of her children to bring the cloth that was a specialty of the Ebrus. Teyla had seen the cloth for sale in markets on other worlds in the past, and she remembered its high quality.

 

Teyla praised the craftsmanship and watched Brista preen a bit. “We would be happy to trade medicines and technology for such exquisite work.”

 

Brista appeared thoughtful. “Do you know of the planting sickness?”

 

“What are the symptoms?” Teyla asked.

 

Brista described what the Athosians had called the sweating sickness, what Dr. Beckett had determined was a variant of the Earth illness “malaria.” Teyla nodded, smiling broadly. “Dr. Beckett, the doctor on Atlantis, has already treated this illness among my people, with great success.”

 

Brista offered a relieved smile. “That is excellent news. I thank you.”

 

“We can also treat infections,” John said. “And other problems that can turn more serious without medical intervention.”

 

“That is good news,” Brista replied. “We will be happy to trade for such expertise. I believe we can work out the terms to our mutual benefit.”

 

John shot a look at Teyla, and she picked up his unspoken message. “There was something else, Brista.”

 

The woman looked at Teyla, wariness entering her expression. “Yes?”

 

“There are tales of a temple built by the Ancestors,” Teyla began. “A sacred place that only the chosen can enter, that has a great source of power.”

 

Brista gave Teyla a long look, and then turned her gaze to John. “You live in the city of the Ancestors. You must have their blessing.”

 

John nodded slowly. “I believe we do.”

 

“There is such a temple,” Brista admitted. “But only the pure of heart may enter.”

 

“I assure you that Colonel Sheppard’s heart is pure,” Teyla said.

 

Brista took a breath. “Perhaps. There have been others who have said as much, but they were unable to pass the tests.”

 

“I would like to try if you’d allow it,” John said, managing to sound humble.

 

Teyla was impressed by his diplomacy.

 

Brista hummed under her breath. “I will have to discuss this with our ruling council, and you will have to go through the purification rites.”

 

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” John replied.

 

Brista let out a little laugh. “Well, then. There is a tale that eventually the Ancestors would return to us and take possession of the source of power to fight the Wraith. Others have tried to retrieve it, but they have not succeeded.”

 

Rodney cleared his throat. “But has anyone died trying to get it?”

 

John shot Rodney a dark look, but Brista shook her head. “No, not in my lifetime.”

 

“If you give us the opportunity, you won’t regret it,” John said earnestly. “We want to fight the Wraith. We want to destroy every single one so that your children can live in peace. We want to be certain that every person in this galaxy has the opportunity to live to old age.”

 

“Those are noble goals,” Brista acknowledged. “But I will have to discuss your request with the rest of my people.”

 

John glanced at Teyla, and she nodded. “Even if you decide not to allow Colonel Sheppard to make the attempt, we would like to trade. We will understand either way.”

 

“Thank you,” Brista said. “You have given us much to consider.”

 

The conversation trailed off, and Brista insisted on walking them back to the gate. She talked about the _orkna_ that dotted the nearby hills, which were the source of the Ebrus’ superior cloth.

 

Brista saw them off with a warm smile, and John asked, “Will a week be enough time?”

 

“I believe that will be sufficient, yes,” Brista replied. “You will contact us?”

 

“We will,” John promised. “Thank you for considering our request.”

 

Brista was polite enough to leave before they dialed out, and as soon as she was gone, Rodney began to speak. He’d been extraordinarily quiet up until this point, and Teyla had wondered when the explosion of words would come.

 

“You can’t seriously be considering going through with this!” Rodney shouted.

 

John began dialing Atlantis. “We need a ZPM, McKay. You said it yourself.”

 

“Yes, I said it,” Rodney replied. “We need it, sure. But that doesn’t mean you have to go through some sort of insane ritual! You heard what the woman said! People have tried and failed before.”

 

“Yeah, but they probably didn’t have the ATA gene,” John replied as the wormhole whooshed to life. “Relax, McKay. It’s going to be fine. She said no one had died.”

 

He stepped through the wormhole, which required the rest of the team to follow. Rodney was speaking even as Teyla crossed the event horizon. “—and you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into!”

 

“I know that we need a ZPM,” John replied. “I know that if we don’t have a ZPM, we’re fucked. Whatever we need to do to get that ZPM, I’m going to do, _Rodney_. If that’s okay with you.”

 

Rodney grabbed John’s arm. “You don’t know what they’re going to ask you to do!” he protested. “Maybe you should figure that out first.”

 

“We’ve done a hundred different alien rituals,” John replied. “What’s one more?”

 

“What if you don’t survive it?” Rodney asked loudly. “John!”

 

John shook Rodney loose, glaring at him.

 

Teyla glanced at Ronon to see if he’d caught the byplay, and she could see sharp interest behind Ronon’s deceptively nonchalant expression.

 

Teyla had no idea what John might have said if Elizabeth hadn’t appeared in the gate room. “What did you find?” she asked.

 

John got a repressive look at Rodney. “There are some interesting developments,” John replied.

 

“Get checked out by Carson, and meet me in my office in an hour,” Elizabeth ordered.

 

Simple orders, Teyla thought, but John and Rodney were going to have trouble following them.

 

Rodney was on John’s heels as they headed for the infirmary. “Didn’t you hear her? She said that no one has died _in her lifetime_. That doesn’t mean people haven’t died trying in the past. What if you’re one of those people, huh?”

 

“Enough,” John said shortly. “You’ve got Lorne. There’s a detailed chain of command.”

 

“You’re not expendable!” Rodney yelled.

 

“That’s what you think,” John shot back. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, McKay, so back off.”

 

Teyla exchanged another look with Ronon, who wasn’t bothering to hide his interest now.

 

“You’re delusional,” Rodney replied. “You’re the military commander, Sheppard. Do you think we could replace you?”

 

John stalked out of the gate room, heading towards the infirmary, Rodney at his heels. Teyla took her time, feeling Ronon fall in next to her. “You think something weird’s going on?” Ronon asked.

 

“Perhaps,” Teyla responded. “It’s certainly possible.”

 

“McKay is into Sheppard,” Ronon said, the words sounding casual, but the meaning anything but.

 

Ronon’s observation gave context to Teyla’s observations. “I suppose he is,” she replied. “But then, John has been interested in Rodney for a long time.”

 

Ronon grunted.

 

 “Do you think John should risk the purification ritual with the Ebrus?” Teyla asked.

 

Ronon shrugged. “It’s a risk, but if we get a ZPM, it’ll be good.”

 

“I agree,” Teyla replied. “Rodney will not be pleased.”

 

“McKay will get over it,” Ronon replied. “Sheppard’s gonna take risks.”

 

Teyla smiled. “That’s true enough.”

 

~~~~~

 

Elizabeth found herself cautiously optimistic as John delivered the report in his spare, dispassionate way. Even if the Ebrus didn’t have a ZPM, they had trade goods that might be useful, and every little bit helped.

 

“Did Brista give any indication what this purification ritual entails?” she finally asked.

 

“No!” Rodney burst out. “She didn’t. This is a _bad_ idea.”

 

John shot him a dark look. “No, it’s not. I’m prepared to take the chance McKay.”

 

Rodney appeared to be building up a head of steam, and Elizabeth wanted to cut him off. “Teyla, Ronon, are you aware of what the Ebrus purification ritual entails?”

 

“No idea,” Ronon admitted.

 

Elizabeth looked at Teyla, who shrugged eloquently. “I haven’t heard of anyone dying at the hands of the Ebrus, and Brista said it hadn’t happened in her lifetime,” Teyla admitted. “But we already know that few in the Pegasus galaxy have what you call the ATA gene. There are few who would attempt to go through the rituals. There would be no point.”

 

“See?” Rodney said triumphantly. “We have no idea.”

 

“We have no idea,” Elizabeth agreed. “But is it required that you complete the ritual?”

 

Rodney opened his mouth, and Elizabeth held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Teyla? Ronon?”

 

“My understanding was that if John could not complete the ritual, he would not be granted access into the sacred temple,” Teyla said. “He could stop at any time.”

 

Ronon slumped a little lower in his seat. “That’s what I heard.”

 

John leaned forward, his expression intense. “Maybe we’ll have another opportunity, and maybe this won’t work out, but right now this is the best chance we have at getting a ZPM. It’s worth the risk.”

 

“For the hundredth time, you’re not expendable!” Rodney said angrily.

 

“Colonel Sheppard _isn’t_ expendable,” Elizabeth agreed. “But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try. Right now, however, we don’t know that we’ll even get that far. Let’s wait until we know for certain.”

 

Rodney opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut again. “Fine, fine. _Don’t_ listen to me.”

 

“We never do,” John muttered.

 

Elizabeth gave the two men a sharp look, but she kept her own counsel. “Dismissed,” she said. “Take the rest of the day off. We’ll meet tomorrow at 10 am to discuss your next mission.”

 

She watched as John rocketed out of his chair and strode out of the room, Rodney on his heels. Teyla and Ronon exchanged a look, and Elizabeth could almost see the silent conversation take place. Teyla raised her eyebrows, and Ronon smirked, heading out after John and Rodney while Teyla remained behind.

 

Elizabeth had the sense that Teyla and Ronon were managing John and Rodney, and probably managing _her_ as well. Not that she needed it, but she was grateful that they cared enough to try.

 

“Do you know what’s going on there?” Elizabeth asked.

 

Teyla shook her head. “I have my suspicions, but it’s not my place to say.”

 

Elizabeth respected Teyla’s integrity and loyalty to her teammates, so she didn’t press for answers. “I understand. Do you trust the Ebrus?”

 

“I do not distrust them,” Teyla replied carefully. “They appeared genuinely interested in trading with us, and they were cautious when we asked about the sacred temple, but not secretive.”

 

Elizabeth felt a little of her worry ease. “Then I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

 

“Trust is something that is earned,” Teyla said. “And yet the Ebrus must trust us enough to allow us entrance into their sacred temple. It makes sense that they would ask us to undergo certain rituals, or to pass certain tests.”

 

Elizabeth couldn’t disagree with that assessment. “We’ll continue searching, then, at least until we know.”

 

“Would you like to eat dinner with me tonight?” Teyla asked.

 

Elizabeth had planned to eat dinner in her office while going over the various departmental reports once again. She had them all memorized at this point; she knew what Atlantis needed down to the last pencil, and yet she still felt the need to go over the information.

 

She probably needed the break, and she was definitely hungry.

 

“I’d love to,” Elizabeth replied.

 

They grabbed dinner in the dining hall, Teyla filling Elizabeth in on the finer points of their afternoon with the Ebrus. As a fellow diplomat, Elizabeth could appreciate the nuances that Teyla had noticed. Zelenka joined them halfway through with an update on preparations the science team had been making, as well as a few suggestions on how to save resources.

 

Teyla began to tell stories about measures the Athosians had taken to save the most basic of supplies. Elizabeth didn’t think that they would be forced to sleep four to a bed to conserve heat, but the ensuing discussion as to whom they might assign to the same quarters led to amusing and increasingly far-fetched suggestions.

 

“Just be grateful that we do not have an unlimited source of cabbage,” Zelenka said earnestly to Teyla. “Cabbage and potatoes—I ate too much of them as a child.”

 

Teyla shook her head. “I’ve had potatoes, but what is this _cabbage_?”

 

“It is a vegetable, and it is popular in my country. When I was a boy, cabbage and potatoes—is all we had.” Zelenka’s hands moved animatedly. “Not always, but far too often. Please, Dr. Weir, if there is cabbage, I do not want to know about it.”

 

Elizabeth laughed. “I’m not fond of it myself, so I’ll let the botany department know that it’s not a viable staple.”

 

Teyla was smiling. “I think I know what you mean. I feel the same way about _kena_ , a grain we grew on our old world. _Kena_ grows under even the worst conditions, and one year we had only _kena_. Occasionally, we would have some success hunting, and we’d have meat, but we had _kena_ for every meal. I was heartily sick of it by the time our next crop came in, and we had some variety in our diets.”

 

From there, Teyla and Zelenka tried to outdo one another with tales of staple foods gone wrong, their least favorite recipes, the most creative recipes, the foods that they would pay to never eat again.

 

Elizabeth thought that privation connected the two of them. They had both come of age during a time of want—want of food, of freedom, of the belief that they would see adulthood.

 

She enjoyed listening to their tales of growing up that were so dissimilar on the surface. She was relieved to know that some of her people were taking their new isolation in stride, and she hoped that would hold true for the rest of Atlantis as well.

 

As though her thoughts had triggered it, Elizabeth’s radio crackled and John’s voice came through clearly. “Elizabeth. I need you in the main corridor on the East Pier. We have a problem.”

 

She tapped her radio to respond. “I’m on my way. Do you need reinforcements? Teyla is here with me.”

 

“Might as well bring her along, too,” John said, his voice weary and grim in equal measure. “Although it’s not necessary if she’s busy.”

 

Elizabeth heard the strain in his voice, and she said, “I’ll bring Teyla. We’ll be there shortly.”

 

Teyla and Zelenka had fallen silent, watching her with similar expressions of apprehension. “Colonel Sheppard needs me on the East Pier,” Elizabeth said out loud. “Teyla?”

 

“I’ll accompany you,” Teyla confirmed.

 

Zelenka raised his eyebrows in a silent offer.

 

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, responding to the question. “But I don’t think it’s necessary. It sounds like a job for Marines, if there’s a need for others.”

 

Zelenka bobbed his head. “You’ll tell me if you need me.”

 

“Of course. Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, and led Teyla to the nearest transporter. “John didn’t give me any details.”

 

Teyla’s mouth curled up in a slight smile. “John needs help, or at least he needs your presence, and he’s part of my team. That’s all I need to know.”

 

Elizabeth punched the button for the location nearest John’s location, and felt the sense of dislocation that the transporters always gave her. It lasted only a moment, but she still found it slightly disconcerting even after two years on Atlantis.

 

It didn’t take long to find John, who was leaning against the wall in the middle of the hallway wearing a thunderous expression. Also present were Rodney—who was shaking his hand as though he’d just thrown a punch—and Captain Reeves, as well as three Marines. Reeves had a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, which he tried to wipe away as soon as he saw Elizabeth, and she immediately thought the worst.

 

If the Marines had jumped Reeves, Elizabeth thought wildly, how was she to impose discipline? They couldn’t send their problem cases back to Earth anymore. They were all stuck together.

 

John turned to look at her as she approached, and his expression lightened a bit. “Elizabeth. Thanks for coming down.”

 

“Of course,” she said, allowing none of her apprehension to show. “What’s going on?”

 

One of the Marines—Private Johnson, if her memory served—began speaking. “Ma’am, it’s not—”

 

“Shut up,” John snapped irritably. “You’re in deep enough shit as it is, Johnson. Don’t dig the hole any deeper.”

 

Johnson shut his mouth with a snap. “Yessir,” he muttered.

 

“Reeves, you were first on the scene,” John said. “Why don’t you start?”

 

Elizabeth felt the knot in her chest loosen. It probably wasn’t a gay bashing, then, which made the situation marginally better, although John was clearly pissed off.

 

Reeves cleared his throat. “Well, Dr. Weir, I was heading to my quarters when I saw Corporal Barnes throw a punch at Private Johnson. I couldn’t tell what Corporal Baker’s role was, but I moved to break up the fight. I got caught by a stray punch, and I radioed for the nearest available help. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay showed up pretty quickly after that.”

 

Elizabeth turned to look at John. “And then what?”

 

John shrugged. “We showed up, we tried to break it up, McKay threw a punch—”

 

“And broke my hand!” Rodney inserted, his expression outraged. “These _Neanderthals_ —”

 

“Colonel?” Elizabeth prompted, cutting Rodney off. She could hear Teyla cough, probably to hide a laugh, and she was working hard to contain any amusement she felt. It wasn’t funny—none of it was—but it was a damn sight better than what she’d expected to find.

 

Teyla took the opportunity to examine Rodney’s hand, probably to serve the dual purpose of making sure he was okay and distracting Rodney from the conversation.

 

John hitched one shoulder in reply. “We broke up the fight in relatively short order after that. It seems that Barnes here was fighting Johnson over a girl.”

 

Elizabeth allowed some of her disbelief to color her tone. “A girl.”

 

John shot a look at Barnes. “Well, Corporal? Care to explain?”

 

Barnes flushed a deep red, all the way up to the top of his head, visible through his close-cropped hair. “I—it’s just—I thought he was moving in on Dr. Corby, ma’am.”

 

“Oh, for—” Rodney burst out, pulling away from Teyla. “Do either of you seriously think you stand a _chance_?”

 

Both Marines flushed an even deeper shade of red, and Elizabeth caught the smirk on Reeves’ face before he managed to school his expression into a frown.

 

“Ma’am,” Corporal Baker began hesitantly. “It was just a disagreement that got out of hand. Nobody meant anything by it.”

 

“I’m sure they didn’t,” Elizabeth replied. “But gentlemen, we’re fighting the Wraith. We’re struggling for our very survival. We do not have time for brawling in the corridors.”

 

There was a muttered chorus of, “No, ma’am” at that, and Elizabeth could feel Teyla and Reeves vibrating with suppressed laughter. Really, getting into a fistfight over a shared interest in the same woman was so pedestrian that it did seem silly. Still, she knew they couldn’t afford the luxury.

 

Although she knew that this was likely a symptom of a larger problem. They were all on edge, and they were all afraid.

 

“Very well,” Elizabeth said. “I suggest you show up at Colonel Sheppard’s office at—” She glanced at John.

 

“0800 tomorrow for assignments,” John replied. “And be grateful this wasn’t a more serious offense, gentlemen. I would have absolutely no problem shoving you through a space gate.”

 

All three Marines swallowed noisily, and they scrambled to their feet and nearly ran away when John barked, “Dismissed!”

 

Elizabeth gave a little shrug when John glanced at her, and he said, “Reeves, good work tonight. Do you need to get checked out?”

 

Reeves laughed. “No, sir. My mom could throw a harder punch than those guys.”

 

John unbent enough to grin. “Good enough. Get some rest.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Reeves beat it down the corridor, and Elizabeth glanced over to see Teyla shrug. “Some ice, and I’m sure Rodney’s hand will be fine.”

 

Rodney sighed. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. But when I can’t type as fast tomorrow and we all die horrible deaths, I hope you’ll all know who to blame.”

 

“I will,” John murmured with a smirk.

 

Rodney glared at him. “Next time, I’ll let that idiot punch you in the face.”

 

“My face can probably take it better than your hand,” John said amiably.

 

Rodney rolled his eyes. “I’m going to eat. When you’re finished playing he-man, you can join me, Sheppard.”

 

Rodney stalked down the hallway, and Elizabeth sent a curious look John’s way. “What was that about?”

 

“He’s pissed off that his punch didn’t even faze Johnson,” John replied, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

 

Teyla hummed under her breath. “This could have been much worse.”

 

“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” John replied ominously. “Almost every single one of these folks has family back on Earth that they’re worried about. They’re scared and pissed off and more than a little freaked out. And if we don’t point them at a constructive task, they’re going to take it out on each other.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “What do you suggest?”

 

“Let me think about it,” John replied. “For right now, I figure our best bet is to make them wish they’d never been born.” When Elizabeth gave him an incredulous look, John laughed. “I’m going to make them wish they’d never been caught anyway. I figure if I exhaust them enough, I’ll prevent them from throwing punches later.”

 

“Keep me apprised,” Elizabeth ordered.

 

She waited until John had ambled off after Rodney to ask Teyla, “What’s your take on all of this?”

 

“I agree with John,” Teyla replied softly. “Until your people have decided that Atlantis is now their home, and that Earth is out of reach, you will have more fights like this. They’re growing pains.”

 

“My concern is that the growing pains will result in something more serious than two young men fighting over the same woman,” Elizabeth admitted. “It could have been much worse. I understand throwing a punch in the heat of the moment, but I was worried that it might be more—malicious than that.”

 

Teyla was quiet for a long moment. “Life is precious among the Athosians. We do not have what John and Rodney call ‘the death penalty.’ There is no crime that warrants death. There are crimes that result in exile, however, and most of us regard that as a fate worse than death. Perhaps you will be able to formulate a similar response if necessary.”

 

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth agreed. She hated to think that any of her people would be inclined to malicious behavior, but she knew it would be better to formulate a response before something happened.

 

It was just one more thing to think about.

 

~~~~~

 

Evan’s knowledge of the Athosians came mostly from his interactions with Teyla and reading old reports. His impressions before he’d spent a week on the mainland were that they were good people—resilient, courageous under fire, and deeply spiritual. His firsthand experience had merely confirmed it.

 

The Athosians were a tight-knit community, not unlike Atlantis. There were troublemakers, of course, and grumblers and shirkers. But Evan admired and envied the way they pulled together, the way they had rebuilt their world from the ashes.

 

He thought of the name the SGC had given the operation that cut Atlantis loose—Phoenix: the mythical bird that died and rose again from the ashes. Evan wished he could be so resilient, so flexible.

 

He’d enjoyed working with the Athosians, although he missed Atlantis—his friends, learning to play chess with Radek, even sitting with Sheppard in their shared office.

 

Still, Evan found the tension he’d carried around with him dissipating. It was hard to feel self-pity while he helped the Athosians plant and build and create. He admired their work ethic and generous spirits, and he now understood why Sheppard and Dr. Weir had been so willing to strengthen their ties here, rather than looking for new allies.

 

Evan thought that in the face of adversity, a people either grew fearful and brittle—like the Genii—or opened their hearts and minds. He hoped that Atlantis would emulate the Athosians.

 

The sun had just begun its descent when Evan made his way through the scattered tents. He’d spent the better part of the day helping Halling with the irrigation system, and he was heading for the bathing area on the north side of the settlement. He missed showers, but he was glad to have another week here.

 

He paused as he approached a man sitting outside one of the larger tents in front of what Evan recognized as a pottery wheel. Evan’s steps faltered, his gaze caught by close-cropped, dark hair, broad shoulders, and muscular arms. The wheel spun, and Evan watched in awe as the lump of clay began to take form under the man’s skilled hands.

 

Evan had thrown a pot or two in the past. His mom had liked to use a variety of media, and Evan had been a willing pupil, although not a terribly skilled one. This man was clearly a master craftsman, however. The transformation from formless lump to elegant pitcher held Evan’s attention, and he felt a pang of regret as the wheel slowed and the man sat back, rolling his shoulders.

 

He glanced up and caught sight of Evan, who felt his face heat at being caught staring.

 

“Sorry,” Evan said. “I’ve watched a few people use a pottery wheel, but…” He trailed off, knowing that he was about to start gushing. “It’s been a long time.”

 

The man smiled warmly. “I’m used to people stopping to watch if they have the time. If I minded, I’d leave my wheel inside the tent. You must be one of the Lanteans.”

 

“Yes, Major Evan Lorne,” he replied. “Call me Evan.”

 

“And I am Laro.” Laro’s hazel eyes crinkled with amusement, and his mouth tilted up in a smile that invited Evan to respond in kind. “You are welcome here, Evan. Have you ever worked with clay?”

 

Evan shrugged self-deprecatingly. “A long time ago. My mom taught art classes.”

 

Laro’s smile broadened. “You are an artist?”

 

“I paint,” Evan replied. “Not very well.”

 

“Would you like to try the wheel?”

 

Evan shook his head regretfully. “No. I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Laro responded. “And I’m done for the day. Few of my people have shown such an interest.”

 

Evan hesitated, but he was intrigued by the idea. He had to admit that his fingers itched to get his hands on clay again, if only to feel closer to his mom for a brief moment, even though she was light years away.

 

“Come,” Laro said briskly, rising from his low stool. He was about Evan’s height, although broader through the shoulders. “Sit. I will get more clay.”

 

Laro removed the pitcher from the wheel and took it inside the tent, returning with a new lump of wet clay, plunking it down on the wheel. “The treadle is here,” Laro explained, demonstrating with his foot. “Pump slowly and steadily.”

 

Evan began to move his foot, trying to maintain a steady, even rhythm. This part had always been hardest—to keep the same pace while focusing on the clay in front of him. His mom had said that it was like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

 

Once he had a rhythm going, Evan focused on putting more pressure on the clay than what was required to keep it on the wheel. “Relax your shoulders,” Laro advised. “Let the clay speak to you.”

 

“I’m not sure I speak its language,” Evan joked.

 

“Just listen.”

 

Throwing a pot was _not_ like riding a bike. Evan’s pot had barely started to take shape before it started to fall apart. “I’m no good at this,” he told Laro.

 

“But do you want to try?” Laro asked quietly. “That is the more important question.”

 

Evan surprised himself by answering, “Yeah, I would.”

 

“Then we begin again.”

 

By his third attempt, what little skill Evan once had was coming back to him. By the fourth, Evan’s pot was lumpy and misshapen but recognizably a pot.

 

“You have some talent, Evan,” Laro said.

 

Evan shook his head. “Not really. When I look at your work, there’s no way I could even come close to your ability.”

 

“Artists are rare,” Laro replied. “Few worlds have the resources to devote to creation for its own sake. Pottery, weaving, jewelry—art that is portable and useful—are relished. Only a few worlds that I know of encourage artistry, and one is gone.”

 

Evan frowned. “You mean Sateda.”

 

“The Satedans were known for their murals,” Laro replied. “Many of them were destroyed when the Wraith leveled their cities.”

 

Evan knew very little about Sateda, even though Ronon was on Sheppard’s team. “I wish I could have had the chance to see them.”

 

“They were remarkable,” Laro said softly. “In Sateda’s great cities, there were murals everywhere, and mosaics in many of the courtyards.”

 

“You’ve seen them.”

 

“I went as a boy,” Laro replied. “My parents took me on a trading mission when they realized I would never be a soldier or a hunter.” He clapped Evan on the shoulder. “Will you eat with me tonight? I would like to learn more about your painting.”

 

Evan nodded. “I don’t know how much I can tell you, but I’ll answer any questions you have.”

 

“You miss your world,” Laro said quietly.

 

Evan let out a long breath. “I miss my family, and I’m worried about our world.”

 

Laro nodded. “We have long since learned that we can rebuild from the ashes, no matter what the disaster, as long as our people have survived. We grieve for those we have lost, but we appreciate those who remain.”

 

“I admire that,” Evan admitted. “I admire your people a great deal, Laro.”

 

“As we admire yours,” Laro responded. “Were you planning on eating dinner with someone tonight?”

 

“I’d planned on cleaning up first, but I had no plans for later on,” Evan replied.

 

“I must clean up as well. I’ll go with you,” Laro replied, ducking back into the tent.

 

Evan flushed, a little uncomfortable with the idea of being naked with someone he found so attractive after such a short acquaintance. Not that he had any indication that Laro might return his interest. Evan had endured his fair share of crushes on straight men, and he’d learned his lesson a long time ago. Until he had a clear picture of Laro’s preferences, Evan wasn’t willing to put himself out there.

 

For now, Evan would simply enjoy the company of another artist, someone who shared his interest in aesthetics.

 

And he’d enjoy his next week on the mainland, immersing himself in the Athosian culture, and getting to know their allies better.

 

Eventually, he might even appreciate being out here, being a Lantean, being part of an independent colony. Evan just wasn’t sure when the good would start to outweigh the bad.


	7. Hope

_“The thing about being on SG-1 is that you never say you’re fucked. That’s what first made me want to be a part of that team, you know? I wanted to be a part of that. I fought to walk again; I wanted a team who would have the same kind of determination to beat the odds. I never thought we’d face an enemy we couldn’t beat, but maybe that’s just my eternal optimism talking.”_

 

~Interview with Cameron Mitchell

 

Sam woke all at once, her heart thundering in her chest, her breath coming in quick, silent gasps. She was no stranger to nightmares, but this one had been bad. She’d watched her team being tortured over and over again, powerless to stop it, and then she’d been forced to watch a laughing Ba’al slit Jack’s throat.

 

They couldn’t go back to Earth, Sam reminded herself. The gate was closed, and they’d been given their orders.

 

Jack would have ignored orders, though. If any of them had been left behind, Jack would have moved heaven and earth to get them back.

 

But Teal’c had promised to look, to get whatever information he could. Maybe Teal’c would manage the impossible.

 

Sam wasn’t just worried about Jack. Cassie was still on Earth, although Sam thought she’d be insulated from any real danger. Sam and Janet had both discussed what Cassie should do if something like this happened. If there was an invasion or foothold situation, Cassie knew to keep her head down, to go to class and pretend that everything was normal.

 

Technically, Cassie’s connection with the SGC had ended with Janet’s death. The Trust would have no reason to go after her. At least, that’s what Sam kept telling herself. Cassie was just a kid, just a college student still trying to find her way.

 

Vala suddenly rolled over and propped herself up on an elbow. “You okay?” she whispered.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Because I can hear you thinking from here.”

 

“Did you ever meet Cassie?” Sam asked, not wanting to talk about the dream that woke her up.

 

Vala shook her head. “No. She’s your friend’s daughter, right?”

 

“She’s at college,” Sam replied. “I haven’t been able to give her much thought. That sounds terrible, but—”

 

Vala put a hand on her arm. “When you’re off-world, you think of those you’ve left behind as safe.”

 

“I’ve been so worried about Jack,” Sam replied. “Cassie’s at college. There’s no reason for the Trust to go after her.”

 

“No reason at all,” Vala agreed.

 

“Teal’c will get her out if necessary, if he can.” Daniel’s voice floated across the space between the two beds. “And Cassie’s a smart kid. She’ll know to keep a low profile.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, knowing that Cam had as much reason to worry about his family as she did about Cassie. “I want to go back to Earth.”

 

“I know,” Cam said, speaking for the first time. “So do I.”

 

Sam closed her eyes. “We can’t.”

 

“No, we can’t,” Daniel agreed. “We have to do this. We have to follow orders this time, Sam.”

 

“I know,” she agreed. “God, I know.”

 

“Do you think you’re going to be able to go back to sleep?” Cam asked.

 

“No,” Sam replied, shuddering at the thought of her nightmare. “No.”

 

“Okay, then,” Cam replied, sitting up in bed. “Let’s get cleaned up and start gathering our supplies. Might as well use the time to our advantage.”

 

Cam and Daniel went to get cleaned up, leaving Sam and Vala alone in their room. “What do you think we can expect?” Sam asked once the guys were gone.

 

“Oh, I imagine they’ll shoot at us,” Vala admitted cheerfully, collapsing back on the bed. “But we can take them.”

 

“I think you spent too much time with the Marines while at the SGC,” Sam accused.

 

Vala grinned. “Oh, but can you blame me? They’re so delicious.”

 

Sam rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “You’re incorrigible.”

 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Sam, it’s that death can come for us at any time. Why not make the best of the time we have?”

 

Sam wondered how she’d gone for so many years without a female teammate. She still missed Janet terribly, and she loved the men on her team, but she was grateful to have Vala here with her now.

 

“Good point,” Sam agreed.

 

“Sorry,” Vala said. “I know you’d rather have your general.”

 

“I really would.” Sam sighed. “I hate this feeling that we’re leaving people behind, you know?”

 

“It’s one of the things I like most about you,” Vala replied.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

 

“Getting there,” Vala replied.

 

“You going to make a move on Daniel any time soon?”

 

“Getting there,” Vala replied, a smile in her voice.

 

Sam grinned. “He’s going to wait for you, you know.”

 

“And when I do make a move, as you so elegantly put it, he’ll throw it back in my face,” Vala replied.

 

“I don’t know. He’s been acting a little territorial lately.”

 

“Being protective doesn’t mean being interested.”

 

“I haven’t seen him this _interested_ in years,” Sam replied. “You pose a challenge.”

 

“Bully for me,” Vala murmured. She sighed. “Maybe I’ll broach the subject on the way to Atlantis.”

 

“Just give me a warning,” Sam replied. “I’ll make sure that Cam and I are otherwise occupied.”

 

Vala grinned at her. “You’re a real friend.”

 

Sam returned the grin. “You know it.” They sprawled on the bed in companionable silence until Daniel and Cam reentered the room.

 

“It’s all yours,” Cam announced. “We’ll start gathering supplies as soon as you get back.”

 

Sam shared a look with Vala, and then began gathering whatever clean clothes she could put her hands on. She missed washing machines and hot showers, and she wanted nothing more than a set of clean BDUs—or even better, her favorite skirt and jean jacket.

 

“What do you miss?” Sam asked, once they had entered the washroom. “Clothes, I mean.”

 

Vala’s expression went a little dreamy. “There was this dress I had while I was a host. I loved it. I wish I had it now.”

 

Sam grinned. “You think there’s anywhere we could go between here and Atlantis to get some shopping done?”

 

“Unfortunately, no,” Vala replied. “I wish.”

 

Sam thought longingly of a day of shopping. She should have introduced Vala to Cassie while they were still on Earth; they could have had an old-fashioned girls’ day.

 

They would never get the chance now.

 

“We should get going,” Sam said. “We have a lot to do.”

 

Cam and Daniel had already packed up. All Sam and Vala had to do was to stuff their dirty clothing into the packs.

 

“We’ll need dried meat, dried fruit, and bread,” Vala said. “We might be on short rations, but between the ship’s stores and what we can purchase here, we should be good for a week and a half, maybe two.”

 

“Can we make it to Atlantis in that time?” Cam asked Sam.

 

Sam nodded. “If all goes well, yes, although I can’t make any promises. The ship appeared to be in good repair from what we saw of it, but that doesn’t mean something won’t go wrong.”

 

“There aren’t any guarantees in this gig,” Cam agreed. “We’ll do the best we can. You ladies know the plan?”

 

“We go in, we get as many of them together as we possibly can, and we drop the stun grenade,” Vala said briskly. “Yes, Cameron. We’ve gone over it enough.”

 

“Well, Vala, pardon me if I don’t want to get us all killed!” Cam shot back.

 

Daniel held up his hands. “Okay, that’s enough. We’re all under a lot of pressure. Let’s not fight about it.”

 

“How many men?” Cam asked.

 

Sam sighed and shook her head, knowing that Cam wasn’t going to stop pushing until he knew for certain that they all knew the plan inside and out. She didn’t blame him; if Sam had been the one left behind, she would be just as pushy.

 

“There were four that we saw,” Sam said for the fourth time. “We can get two or three in the same room at the same time. You and Daniel will prevent anyone from escaping. We take the ship, and we leave. We’ll dump the bodies out the airlock, or we’ll strand them on a planet.”

 

“I vote for stranding, if possible,” Daniel inserted, although he didn’t sound too hopeful.

 

“If possible, that’s what we’ll do,” Sam agreed. “But we may not have a choice.”

 

Daniel sighed. “I’m aware of that.”

 

“So, stun, zat, and otherwise incapacitate or kill,” Cam summed up.

 

Sam met his eyes. “We’ve got it covered, Cam. We’ll be fine.”

 

“I know you will,” he replied, and it was a promise.

 

Sam appreciated his faith; she knew she’d take it with her into the next battle.

 

~~~~~

 

Daniel grimaced. “I hate this.”

 

“You and me both,” Cam agreed fervently. “Damn those women for being competent anyway.”

 

Daniel shot him a dirty look. “Shut the fuck up, Cameron.”

 

Cam grinned. “You’re just bent because you haven’t admitted that you’re sweet on Vala yet.”

 

“Seriously, shut up.”

 

“Come on,” Cam cajoled. “You can’t tell me that you don’t get worked up by the idea of a confident, capable woman.”

 

“Vala doesn’t need that right now,” Daniel replied, not realizing that he was revealing too much until the words were out of his mouth.

 

“From what I can see, Vala likes _you_ ,” Cam said. “We’ve learned the hard way that life is short. You might want to take advantage of it.”

 

Daniel shook his head. “Not until she makes a move. I have a good idea what happened to her while we were in that Goa’uld dungeon. I don’t know that she’s going to be interested in having another man pawing at her anytime soon.”

 

“If you do it right, she won’t think of it as _pawing_ ,” Cam pointed out.

 

Daniel snorted. “That’s what you think. Vala hasn’t given me any indication that she’s interested.”

 

Cam laughed. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

 

Daniel shook his head. “We’ve got enough to think about right now.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I do.” Daniel kept his eyes focused on the ship. He knew they could take care of themselves, but he didn’t like splitting up. Daniel watched as Sam and Vala made contact with the gunrunners. They exchanged cordial nods and then disappeared inside the ship.

 

“They’ve got a stun grenade,” Cam said, although he sounded as though he was reassuring himself more than Daniel. He checked his watch. “We’ll give them another minute.”

 

Daniel shifted but didn’t argue. The main reason Sam and Vala had gone alone was because they were more likely to get the jump on their quarry.

 

“Okay, let’s move,” Cam ordered softly.

 

Daniel followed Cam as he sauntered across the open ground in front of the two ships. The one they wanted was to the left, but they took a circuitous route, approaching obliquely, trying not to give away their objective.

 

Sam and Vala had gone in with only a small bag between the two of them, ostensibly to hold the payment for the weapons. They’d chosen to attack now, before the weapons were off-loaded, knowing that Atlantis could probably use the extra ordinance. Daniel and Cam carried their supplies, doing their best to look like passers-by just checking out the sights.

 

One of the smugglers stepped out of the doorway, his hand on the gun tucked into his belt; from what Daniel could see, it was a pulse weapon of some sort, which seemed to be common in this area of the galaxy. The rule of thumb seemed to be that if it wasn’t a spear, or an arrow, it was a pulse weapon.

 

Cam approached slowly, looking every inch the country bumpkin that he often pretended to be. “Hey, Danny. Look at this ship! Pretty cool, huh?”

 

The guard turned a jaundiced eye on Cam. “What’s your business here?”

 

“No business,” Cam replied, raising his hands in supplication. “We just don’t get a chance to see ships like this where we’re from, and my friend here is a real aficionado. What model is this?”

 

“It’s similar to a tel’tak,” the guard replied, unbending slightly under the full force of Cam’s good old boy charm. “It was a special order.”

 

“Really?” Cam asked, sounding as enthusiastic as a child at Disneyland. “This is great! I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can get a tour.”

 

“No, sorry,” the man replied, but his hand dropped away from his gun. Daniel took the opportunity to zat him. Cam fired twice more, and the body disintegrated.

 

Daniel didn’t protest, although he hated the loss of life. Nearly ten years with the SGC, and he still hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea of acceptable casualties. They entered the ship and dropped their packs by the entrance, hopefully out of sight.

 

“What the hell took you so long?” Vala demanded, sticking her head around the corner. “The ship is clear.”

 

“It’s not like we knew,” Daniel replied defensively. “Everyone’s unconscious?”

 

“There was some resistance,” Vala admitted. “Daniel, you might want to check on Sam. She took fire. Cam, you can fly this, right?”

 

“Sure,” Cam replied with a smile. “I can fly anything.”

 

“Good. I’ll give you a hand. Daniel? Sam’s in the cargo area.”

 

“Got it,” Daniel replied. He felt the ship come to life under his feet as he made his way to the cargo area. It was similar enough to the tel’tak for Daniel to find his way without any trouble. “Sam?”

 

Sam waved at him. “I’m okay.”

 

“Vala said you needed medical attention,” Daniel replied, feeling the vibration under his feet as the ship took off. “How bad is it?”

 

Sam sighed. “It’s my leg. I’ve had worse.”

 

“That’s not saying much,” Daniel replied, making his way over to her.

 

She shrugged. “True enough, but it’s really not that bad.”

 

“Let me be the judge of that.”

 

Everyone in the SGC had to have at least some first aid training, and everyone on SG-1 had a little more instruction than most. They’d all been stuck in the field without medical help far too often to leave anything to chance.

 

Daniel winced when he saw the blood on Sam’s pants and the makeshift bandage over the top. “Okay, I think the best thing to do would be to get your pants off.”

 

“How long have you been waiting to say that?” Sam joked.

 

Daniel grinned at her. “All my life.”

 

She laughed. “Charmer. Pull off the bandage, and I’ll work on the pants.”

 

Daniel didn’t want to hurt her, and he untied the bandage carefully. The fabric of Sam’s BDUs hadn’t had a chance to stick to the skin yet, and Daniel removed her boots and helped her remove her pants carefully.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered.

 

Sam let out a muffled laugh. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

 

“It just seemed like the thing to say,” Daniel replied. “It doesn’t look too bad. Not enough bleeding to involve an artery, and the wound seems to have been cauterized by the blast.”

 

Sam managed a smile. “Good to know, since it hurts like a motherfucker.”

 

“I’ll get a clean bandage on it, and then you can pull your pants back on,” Daniel promised.

 

“Are my legs that bad?” Sam joked.

 

“Well, you haven’t shaved in awhile…”

 

She laughed, and Daniel thought that it was a testament to their friendship that they both could find that funny. “I forgot to pack my razor,” Sam joked.

 

“So did I,” Daniel replied. “Good thing that Cam’s a Boy Scout and packed an extra.”

 

“That’s why you’ve been looking rather scruffy.”

 

“Maybe I like a beard.”

 

“It looks good on you,” Sam replied, running a hand down his face. “You could always pull it off.”

 

“I miss Jack,” he said suddenly, apropos of absolutely nothing. He focused his attention on the dressing on Sam’s leg, checking out the damage and making sure there was nothing he’d missed.

 

“God, so do I,” Sam replied fervently. “Daniel…” She trailed off, her voice hitching on the last syllable.

 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know better than anyone.”

 

“Except maybe Teal’c,” Sam replied. “But yeah, you would. Do you think he’s still alive?”

 

“I don’t know,” Daniel admitted. “I can’t think of any reason why they’d kill him, though. They’d have every reason to keep him alive.”

 

Daniel didn’t say why they’d leave him alive, because Sam knew all the reasons already. They would torture Jack for information, but they would keep him alive. If Jack could stay out of the Trust’s hands for long enough, if he could stay alive long enough, Teal’c might be able to rescue him.

 

It was a long shot, but it was better than nothing.

 

Sam just shrugged and braced herself against the hull while Daniel cleaned her wound and bandaged it.

 

“Thanks,” she said as he finished. “That looks good.”

 

“Janet gave me personal lessons,” Daniel admitted. “After I asked.”

 

He could hear Sam swallow thickly. “I miss her, too.” Daniel looked up to see Sam blinking back tears. “Do you ever think that it’s too much, Daniel? That we’ve lost too much?”

 

“What other choice do we have?” Daniel asked. “We have to keep going.”

 

“That’s not what I asked.”

 

“Then yes,” Daniel replied, his voice hoarse. “Yeah, I feel like we’ve lost too much every single day.”

 

“Good to know it’s not just me.”

 

“It’s not just you.” He finished bandaging Sam’s wound, and then helped her get dressed again. “I don’t know that we’ve got much for the pain, but I might be able to come up with something.”

 

“I think I might just sleep, if that’s okay,” Sam replied, her voice faint. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

 

“Sleep if you can,” Daniel said. “I’ll wake you up when we need you.”

 

He helped her get settled, even though he knew that Sam normally hated to show any sign of weakness. The fact that she accepted his help told him that she was hurting far worse than she was willing to let on.

 

Daniel covered her with his jacket as well as one of their emergency blankets and headed for the front of the ship.

 

“How’s it going?”

 

“We’re about ready to activate the hyperdrive,” Cam replied. “No other hostiles in sight.”

 

“Did you or Sam get a chance to check the cargo?” Daniel asked Vala.

 

Vala grinned. “We’ve got enough ordinance to supply a very small army for a long time, or a large army for a very short time.” She sobered quickly. “How is she?”

 

“It’s not life-threatening,” Daniel replied. “I’d prefer to get it looked at by a real doctor, but…” He trailed off.

 

“We do what we can,” Cam said, focusing on the controls. “You might want to have a seat, Jackson. I have no idea what this baby can do.”

 

Daniel nodded and headed back to the cargo area, sitting down next to Sam’s sleeping form and bracing himself against the hull. He felt the ship begin to vibrate underneath him, and he tipped his head back.

 

Maybe he should get some sleep, too. They didn’t have much else to do to pass the time.

 

~~~~~

 

“You know, I much prefer gate travel,” Vala said, laying on her back in the cargo hold. “Seriously, how much longer are we going to be on this blasted ship?”

 

Sam sighed. “We’re approaching the edge of the Pegasus galaxy. Another two days to hit Pegasus, and probably another five or six to Atlantis.”

 

“We don’t have enough food to make it that long,” Vala pointed out. “Not with half the ship’s stores destroyed by that fungus.”

 

“Cam and I talked about it. We’re going to stop off on the first world that has a gate and that looks safe. We’ll dial Atlantis and get recommendations on the best places to stop for food.” Sam rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe that we’re actually going to Atlantis.”

 

“It’s too late to turn around now,” Vala replied.

 

“I’m aware.” Sam pushed herself up off the floor slowly, and Vala watched carefully. Sam had run a fever for a day or two, but she seemed to be okay now. She favored her left leg, but the damage probably wasn’t permanent.

 

Probably. Vala had seen even minor wounds turn deadly, and Sam’s injury had not been what she would call “minor.”

 

Vala closed her eyes, replaying the scene in her head. They had managed to get two of the smugglers in the hold easily enough, but the third had remained in the cockpit, with the fourth standing guard outside. She and Sam had walked a little ways off, ostensibly to talk over the deal, but it had given them the chance to duck behind a few crates and toss the grenade.

 

The smugglers had gotten off a warning before they were rendered unconscious, giving the smuggler in the cockpit time to start shooting. Sam had gone down before Vala could get a shot off, and it was luck alone that allowed her to kill the pilot without getting shot, too.

 

“Vala?”

 

She opened her eyes to find Daniel’s nose just inches from her own. “Hey.”

 

“Cam wants to know if you’re okay to take your shift.”

 

“I’m good.” Vala forced a smile. “Keep me company?”

 

“Of course,” Daniel replied. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

 

Vala rolled her eyes. “Oh, thank you so much.”

 

Daniel clasped her shoulder. “My pleasure.” She was unaccountably warmed by the contact, particularly when Daniel left his hand there a little longer than absolutely necessary. “I’ll check on Sam and join you.”

 

Vala made her way to the cockpit and put a hand on Cam’s shoulder. “You ready for me?”

 

“We’re on autopilot for now,” Cam replied, sliding out of the pilot’s seat. “You good for a few hours?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Vala promised. “Daniel’s going to keep me company.”

 

Cam rubbed his eyes. “I’ll grab some sleep and then bring you guys something to eat. Call if you need anything.”

 

Vala sat down, checking the readouts automatically. They had been running the hyperdrive at half capacity, not wanting to risk a burnout in the middle of unoccupied space. So far, they had been successful, but Vala wasn’t going to count on actually making it to Pegasus.

 

They’d had remarkably good luck since escaping from the Goa’uld, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

 

Daniel joined her a few minutes later. As the only non-pilot among them, he’d spent his time keeping each of them company in turn, while taking on the lion’s share of cooking and other chores. Vala had no idea when he slept, although she got the feeling that it was infrequent.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked him.

 

He shrugged. “My arm aches less, and my ribs are almost back to normal. I’ll probably be ready for anything by the time we reach Atlantis.”

 

“It’s a dream come true for you, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “I know I interrupted your last trip.”

 

Daniel slouched a little deeper in his seat. “Yes, well, I thought going to Atlantis would mean a chance for discovery, something new after being with SG-1 for so long. I was sure I could make a difference with the expedition.”

 

“You’ll still be able to do that,” Vala pointed out.

 

Daniel shook his head. “It’s harder not knowing where Jack is, you know? I don’t have a lot of family. I really didn’t have any family at all until I joined the SGC. And now—we don’t know what happened to Jack, or General Hammond, or Cassie. I just—I’m not sure if I can move on not knowing.”

 

“It’s not about moving on,” Vala said quietly. “It’s about doing the job that’s in front of you for the good of those around you. You remember those you’ve left behind. You hold them in your memory. But you don’t let those memories hold you back.”

 

“You sound as though you’re speaking from experience.”

 

Vala shot him a dirty look. “I wasn’t hatched from an egg, Daniel. I had a mother and father. I had friends, and people I cared about.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then I was taken as host to a Goa’uld, and whatever life I’d dreamed of having was swept away,” Vala replied. “There was a boy in my village I thought I would marry. He was kind and handsome and quite the catch. And then Qetesh chose me for a host, and there was no more boy, no more village, no more parents.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said softly.

 

Vala shook her head. “We all have our sad stories. That’s what I’ve learned in my years traveling. There’s no one who doesn’t have some tragedy in their past.”

 

“My parents were killed in front of me,” Daniel admitted in a low voice. “They were getting a museum exhibit ready, and it collapsed on them.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Vala said softly.

 

Daniel took a deep, audible breath. “There was a lot that they passed along to me before they died. I try to honor that.”

 

“And you do a remarkable job,” Vala replied.

 

Daniel smiled. “What about your parents?”

 

“My father was a smuggler and a thief,” Vala replied. “He would appear when it suited him, and he was gone the rest of the time. My mother died when I was a child, and I was raised mostly by my stepmother, who died while I was a host.” She glanced over at him. “You and Sam and Cameron are my family, Daniel.”

 

Daniel was quiet for a long moment, and then he said, “Thank you.”

 

“You shouldn’t thank me for telling the truth,” Vala said. “We’re on the same team. We owe each other that much.”

 

“We do,” Daniel replied softly.

 

Vala hesitated, wanting to ask her question but not knowing whether she should ask.

 

“Go for it,” Daniel said. “I promise to be honest.”

 

“Do you think less of me?” Vala asked.

 

Daniel shot her an incredulous look. “For what? For what happened with the guards?”

 

Vala shrugged.

 

“Vala, I told you, that wasn’t your fault.”

 

“Saying it and believing it are two separate issues.”

 

“Do you really think that little of me?” Daniel asked.

 

Vala kept her eyes on the readouts in front of her. “It’s not you I think so little of—it’s the universe at large. I’ve been around a long time, Daniel.”

 

“So have I,” Daniel replied. “And I know you well enough to understand when something is your fault, and when it’s not.”

 

“If I thought that trading my body for our freedom would have worked, I would have done it,” Vala admitted.

 

“I know,” Daniel replied quietly. “I know you would have, Vala. That doesn’t change anything.”

 

Vala shot him a grateful look. “Thank you.”

 

“We’re on the same team. We owe each other the truth,” Daniel said.

 

“More than the truth,” Vala replied.

 

Daniel smiled. “More than the truth.”

 

Vala glanced over at him, and then, following an impulse, leaned close to him and pressed her lips to his.

 

Daniel froze momentarily, but then his hand came up to frame her face, and his thumb caressed her cheek.

 

Vala didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched her like this—she and Sam hugged and cuddled and touched, but that was different. That was completely platonic. No man had touched Vala with romantic intent for…

 

She couldn’t remember how long it had been. There had to be something wrong with that.

 

Daniel pulled back first, and the taste of his lips lingered on Vala’s. “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said quietly.

 

“You’re insane,” Vala replied.

 

Daniel smiled. “Maybe, but it’s a good insanity, right?”

 

“Yes, I think it might be.”

 

“Good.” Daniel laughed. “Are we really trying this?”

 

“Are we?”

 

“I think we are.” Daniel laughed. “If you want.”

 

Vala leaned in for another kiss.

 

“Okay,” Daniel said when she pulled back slightly. “Okay, we’re doing this.”

 

“We are,” Vala agreed.

 

Daniel pushed a hand through Vala’s hair. “I just never thought… I never thought you would look seriously at me.”

 

“I’ve looked seriously at you for a long time,” Vala confessed.

 

Daniel leaned in for another kiss in lieu of a response.

 

~~~~~

 

Cam glanced over at Sam, who sat in the co-pilot’s seat with her bad leg propped on the console. She stared out at the black, and from her expression, she was a million light years away.

 

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

 

“They’re not even worth that much,” Sam replied.

 

Cam shrugged. “Humor me.”

 

Sam sighed. “It’s just more of the same old, same old—all the people we left behind, everything I miss about Earth.”

 

“Coffee?”

 

“God, yes,” Sam agreed fervently. “Pizza.”

 

“Hamburgers.”

 

“Thai food.”

 

“Chinese.”

 

“Pasta.”

 

“My mom’s roast chicken.”

 

“Pot roast.”

 

“Beer.”

 

“I miss beer,” Sam agreed. “A lot.”

 

“We probably won’t get any on Atlantis,” Cam observed.

 

Sam slumped a little lower in her seat. “I know. They’re probably going to be running out of coffee soon, if they haven’t already.”

 

“A lot of other things, too,” Cam observed. “That’s going to be the hardest part of being cut off from Earth. They’re going to be short on everything—supplies, ammunition, and personnel.”

 

“How many others do you think will make it to Pegasus?” Sam asked.

 

Cam thought of Carrie, and half a dozen others he thought had probably made it out of the base. “I don’t know. If we make it, it’s going to be a miracle.”

 

“I know.” Sam rubbed her eyes. “What the hell was Jack thinking?”

 

“He didn’t have a choice.” Cam couldn’t believe that he was the one leaping to O’Neill’s defense. That honor would normally be reserved for Jackson or Sam or Teal’c. But Teal’c wasn’t there, Jackson was wrapped up in Vala at the moment, and Sam was too torn up about everything to think straight.

 

Cam suspected that she was pissed at the general for not escaping while he had the opportunity, and for not coming to rescue them when he knew something was wrong.

 

To tell the truth, Cam was a little pissed off about that himself. If O’Neill had sent someone, if he’d come himself, maybe Vala wouldn’t have been hurt so badly.

 

They’d been left to rot because there hadn’t been anyone to send after them, because there was no one to send through the gate, no one to give them the order to go. But O’Neill could have sent one of the departing teams to the planet where they’d been held. Rescue had been possible, but it hadn’t been attempted.

 

Cam knew the difference.

 

The silence hung between them, and Sam finally shook her head. “He did have a choice, and he made it. I knew that duty always wins with Jack.”

 

“Isn’t that true of most of us?” Cam asked.

 

Sam shot him a look. “I don’t know. You tell me. If you could go back, if we could have dialed Earth, would you have gone back for your family?”

 

“In a heartbeat,” Cam said readily.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You wish you could go back for Cassie?”

 

“Every day.” Sam sighed. “She was on my list, you know. She might—there’s at least a possibility that she’ll be sent off-world.”

 

“There’s a better chance that she won’t need rescuing,” Cam pointed out, well aware of Cassie’s background. He’d read the mission reports, and he’d met Cassie once before. “She’s just a college student.”

 

“Teal’c said he’d check on her if he could,” Sam said hopefully. “So, maybe…”

 

“Maybe,” Cam agreed, wishing he’d thought to have Teal’c check on his parents and his brother’s family. But that was just the thing—Teal’c had enough to worry about trying to rescue O’Neill. If they had each had a list of people to be rescued, Teal’c would have no hope of fulfilling their requests.

 

Cam couldn’t help but think that it was an impossible situation.

 

An alarm sounded, interrupting their thoughts, and Cam quickly began to press buttons, trying to get a clear report.

 

“What have we got?” Sam asked, pulling her foot down and stretching it out in front of her.

 

Cam’s hands danced over the console. “We’ve got a problem. There’s a leak in the coolant system.”

 

Sam hit the button for the intercom. “Vala, I need your help in the cockpit.”

 

Vala turned up in a few seconds. “What’s going on?”

 

“There’s a problem in the engine room,” Sam replied. “I need your help.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Vala promised readily. “Let’s move.”

 

Cam didn’t pay much attention as Vala helped Sam to a standing position, and then supported her out of the cockpit. Jackson joined Cam soon thereafter, his forehead creased in concern.

 

“How bad is it?” Jackson asked.

 

Cam shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Sam after she’s had a chance to look at the engine. It might be serious.”

 

Jackson grimaced. “Let’s hope not.”

 

Cam just focused on the readouts. “I’m bringing us out of hyperspace.”

 

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Jackson replied.

 

Cam gave him a dirty look, and then slowed the ship to normal speed and activated the ship’s intercom. “Sam? Any details?”

 

“We’ve got a leak,” Sam replied after a long silence. “I can put a patch job on it, but I don’t know that it’s going to get us very far.”

 

“Do what you can,” Cam replied. “We’ll deal with the consequences when we have a better idea of what we’re looking at.”

 

“You got it.”

 

Jackson sent Cam a worried look. “We don’t have much food left. If we’re really careful, and we go to starvation rations, we might make it. _Might_.”

 

“Then we cut back on everything we can,” Cam responded. “Water, food, whatever. We do whatever it takes.”

 

“Agreed, but I’m not sure that ‘whatever it takes’ is going to be enough,” Jackson said quietly.

 

Cam nodded. “I know. We’ll give it our best shot.”

 

Jackson stared at the console in front of him for a long moment. “You should probably give me as much instruction as you can. We should all know how to pilot the ship, and I’m the only one who doesn’t have some rudimentary understanding.”

 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Cam focused on his hands, feeling the helplessness wash over him in a horrible wave. They could be stuck out here, drifting in the black, with no hope of rescue, until they all died of hunger or dehydration.

 

They could, Cam thought, but they’d made it this far. He had to believe that they’d make it to Atlantis, too.

 

“Okay, quick tutorial,” Cam said. “Switch places with me.”

 

Cam hit the intercom once Jackson was settled. “Sam, let us know when we’re okay to fire the engines up again.”

 

“You got it,” Sam promised.

 

“Put your hands on the yoke, here,” Cam instructed, demonstrating. “It’s really pretty simple.”

 

Cam hoped it would be simple, anyway. He hoped Jackson wouldn’t need the information. And he hoped to hell they could find a way to make it to Atlantis.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack glanced over at Sam, stretched out in the lawn chair on the dock, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top. Her legs looked impossibly long from this angle, her skin still pale from long hours spent inside or in BDUs. Her cheeks were flushed with the heat from the July sun, and she pressed a cold bottle of beer to the side of her neck.

 

“You can’t tell me this wasn’t a good idea,” Jack said, unable to resist crowing a bit.

 

He could _feel_ her rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. “There aren’t any fish.”

 

“That’s the whole point,” Jack replied. “Come on, tell me you’re not having fun.”

 

A smile quirked her lips. “I’m not having fun.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Sam replied, but she grinned openly now. “It’s just too bad that Daniel and Teal’c couldn’t come.”

 

It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes. “Uh huh.”

 

“I’ve missed my team,” Sam said softly.

 

“And there are a lot of activities we would have to forego if they were here,” Jack said lightly, feeling the need to deflect.

 

They were all close, and Jack knew that Daniel and Teal’c knew about their relationship, but he wasn’t willing to have sex with them in the next room.

 

Hell, it had taken two days of solitude for Jack to stop feeling guilty for looking at her with intent. They had been dancing around this relationship for so long, trying to move on, but without success. They’d spent so long _not_ talking about how they felt about each other, it had become impossible to discuss it now.

 

And they were still hiding, although they weren’t trying very hard. Now that they were no longer under the same command, there were no rules preventing them from being together, but they’d agreed that it was too soon. Jack had just recently moved to D.C.; Sam was still getting her feet under her as a commanding officer. Their relationship would raise too many questions, and Jack didn’t want Sam’s career to take a hit.

 

Jack knew that he was pretty much bulletproof at this point, but Sam wasn’t. He was just waiting for retirement.

 

 _Real_ retirement.

 

Sam wiggled her toes. “I don’t know. They would probably give us our privacy.”

 

“I’d rather not have to try,” Jack replied.

 

“I’m worried about Cassie,” Sam suddenly confessed. “She said she was going to spend the weekend with friends, but I don’t think her first year in college went well.”

 

“She has to find her own way, Carter,” Jack said, still not used to using her first name.

 

He’d started using her first name within the privacy of his own mind, but he was having a little trouble with the rest of it.

 

“I’m aware of that,” Sam said. “I did. Everybody does. It’s just—I feel like I’m failing Janet.”

 

“We’ve all done our best to be there for that kid,” Jack replied. “We’re all trying, you hardest of all. There’s nothing else you can do.” He waited for her to reply, and when she didn’t, he asked, “Cassie’s making friends, isn’t she?”

 

“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “It’s okay. It’s good that she has people she can spend the holidays with, even if it’s not me.”

 

Jack suspected that Sam had harbored a hope that Cassie would spend time with her over the 4th of July weekend. Cassie might be relatively close, going to school in Boulder, ostensibly pre-med, but Cassie didn’t get down to Colorado Springs very often.

 

“She’s going to be okay, Sam,” Jack promised. “She’s strong.”

 

“I know.” Sam put her beer down and leaned across the intervening space, meeting Jack’s lips with her own. “Jack…”

 

Hearing his name on her lips did something to him, Jack admitted. He was half-hard already, and he let out a little groan as Sam left her lawn chair and straddled his lap.

 

Jack lost himself in her. He’d lived in the moment as Jonah, with Thera’s head a warm and heavy weight on his shoulder. He’d wrapped his arms around her in the aftermath of a hard mission, content just to _feel_ her, to hear her breathing, to let her faith substitute for his own.

 

She made him feel impossibly old and impossibly young, all at the same time, and Jack was so grateful for _this_ —for hot sun and still, fish-less water, and the warmth of human contact.

 

And Jack woke, with the sense-memory of Samantha Carter still on his lips. There was the taste of beer, of sweat, of sunscreen, even though he’d had nothing but tasteless gruel for—

 

How long? Jack wondered. He’d woken up in this cell with no idea of where he was, or how long he’d been unconscious. The only hint of light came when he’d been fed at semi-regular intervals. The food was always the same—a sort of porridge that tasted like nothing. Jack had tried counting minutes, tried keeping track of the days, but to no avail.

 

Jack knew what the Trust was trying to do, of course. He’d taken advanced interrogation techniques; he’d spent four months in an Iraqi prison, and they didn’t have anything on Ba’al.

 

He suspected that they would leave him here, in near-sensory deprivation, to soften him up. There was no light, and no sound but his own breathing and the occasional squeak of metal when his meal was shoved through the slot in the door. He had no idea what they’d done to secure the opening, but he’d tried to pry it open with no success.

 

They might leave him here for weeks, even months, and by the time they allowed him contact with another human being, Jack would be pathetically grateful. He’d be so happy to see _anyone_ , that he would tell them anything at all.

 

At least, that was the theory. It was no wonder that Jack’s vivid dreams took him to happier times.

 

Thinking of the most recent dream, Jack wished he’d thought to get Cassie out, but he didn’t know that she would have been any safer. He could have sent her with one of the Stargate teams, but that wasn’t a guarantee of safety. She would probably be better off where she was—with friends, at class, living her life. With luck, she wouldn’t know about their disappearances for a long time.

 

With luck, the Trust wouldn’t figure out what hurting Cassie would do to his fortitude.

 

Jack shivered. It wasn’t cold enough to kill him, but it _was_ cold enough to keep him uncomfortable and shivering. He forced himself to get up and start doing jumping jacks, crunches, push-ups, stretches, anything to get his blood moving.

 

He knew he had to settle in for the long haul. He’d left his team with no hope of rescue, and now he found himself in the same boat.

 

The irony was killing him.

 

After a series of calisthenics, Jack curled up in the corner of the room. Eventually, someday, Jack might have to think about ending it all. He knew how to do it even in a bare cell.

 

But right now, Jack held onto the hope that he’d be able to escape. When he knew he couldn’t hang onto the information he held, that’s when Jack would take matters into his own hands.

 

Until then, Jack would allow his duty to survive to overwhelm everything else.


	8. Holding Pattern

_“We had no idea how long it would take for the SGC personnel to arrive, or if they would arrive at all. We weren’t sure how they would get here, although the briefing I’d received indicated that they would have to find passage on a ship, or find a way to gate to from inside Pegasus. We couldn’t afford to worry about them, though. We had to focus on building a colony—building a whole new world.”_

 

~Interview with Elizabeth Weir

 

“I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s just not possible, John.”

 

The worst part, John thought as he looked at the gate through her office window, was that Elizabeth was right. As much as he wanted to go spend two weeks with the Athosians, Atlantis couldn’t afford for him to be gone that long. And, as Elizabeth had pointed out, having two members of the command staff away from Atlantis at the same time wasn’t the smartest decision.

 

“One week,” John suggested. “I’ll go, and then McKay can go.”

 

“What about the Ebrus?” Elizabeth asked.

 

John sighed. “As much as I want a ZPM yesterday, I think it’s important to seal our agreement with the Athosians, and the Ebrus. Let’s show them both we can keep our promises, and maybe the Ebrus will feel better about letting us into their temple.”

 

“I agree,” Elizabeth said after a pause. “I’ll send a team with Carson. He can treat the Ebrus with the anti-malarial drugs as a good-faith gesture.”

 

“Send Lorne,” John suggested. “He’s usually stuck on survey and rescue missions, but he’s more than ready to spread his wings.”

 

“And you want to be sure he can step into your shoes.”

 

John snorted. “I’m not sure that _I_ can step into these shoes. You know this wasn’t what I signed on for.”

 

“You had a chance to back out the last time we were on Earth,” Elizabeth replied, her expression serene. “Are you regretting your decision now?”

 

He plopped into the chair across from her desk. “No. No more than you are, anyway.”

 

Elizabeth made a face. “You know, if General O’Neill were sitting across from me right now, I’m not sure he’d make it out of this office in one piece.”

 

John chuckled, but he quickly grew serious. “There are risks I’m still going to have to take. I understand that things have to change, but—”

 

“No, I agree,” Elizabeth replied. “But Rodney is right, John. We can’t afford to lose you.”

 

John rubbed his eyes. “You’ve got Lorne. His gene is almost as strong as mine, and he’s nearly as adept at using the Ancient tech. Carson could even do in a pinch.”

 

“And neither of them are the military commander of this city.”

 

“I think I liked my job better when I was expendable,” he grumbled.

 

Elizabeth gave him a dirty look, clearly meant to discourage that kind of thinking. “Speaking of, would you like to explain just what is going on between you and Rodney?”

 

John waved away the question. “We’re fine.”

 

“John…”

 

“We’re _fine_ ,” he insisted. “Everybody’s reacting a little differently to the new circumstances. Rodney is going overboard about keeping everyone safe.”

 

Elizabeth appeared far from convinced, but she nodded, and John knew that she’d let it go for now.

 

At least until the next time Rodney started acting overprotective in the middle of a strategy meeting.

 

“Very well. Are you still leaving in an hour?”

 

“That’s the plan,” John replied. “I’ll break the news to McKay that he’s got another week on the city.”

 

“John, I _am_ sorry. Maybe once some of the other SGC personnel arrive…”

 

John shook his head. “Let’s not go there, Elizabeth. You and I both know that if they do show up, we’re going to have to integrate them into the current command structure, and some of them are likely to be higher ranked than I am.”

 

“Our charter states very clearly that ranking goes to those who have been on Atlantis the longest.” Elizabeth’s smile was just a trifle smug. “So, it really doesn’t matter who shows up.”

 

John smiled. “Even General O’Neill?”

 

“Maybe especially O’Neill,” Elizabeth replied. “Check in every day?”

 

“Same goes for you,” he replied.

 

John found Rodney in his lab, berating one of his lesser minions while Zelenka watched on in amusement. John had seen it happen before; the minion—a Dr. Benet, if John remembered correctly—had probably done something incredibly stupid or foolhardy.

 

Probably both.

 

“Hey, Doc,” John greeted Zelenka. “How’s it going?”

 

“I am vastly entertained,” Zelenka said dryly. “Dr. Benet has been demonstrating how not to update our power outputs.”

 

“And how is that?” John asked lazily.

 

Zelenka raised an eyebrow, suggesting that John should have already known the answer. “Without asking myself or Dr. McKay, of course.”

 

“Get out of here,” Rodney ordered Benet. “Just remember, I’m going to be on the mainland for the next two weeks, and therefore incapable of correcting your gross errors.”

 

John cleared his throat. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that, McKay.”

 

“Dr. Benet and I were just leaving,” Zelenka said. “Excuse us.”

 

John thought he heard Zelenka’s low remonstrance as he ushered Benet out. She didn’t even glance at John as she passed, and John winced in sympathy. He could recall a few dressings-down that had probably stung as much as the one Rodney had just delivered.

 

“Okay, what is it?” Rodney demanded. “I’m very busy. We only have an hour until we leave, and—” He blinked. “Wait, Elizabeth actually talked you into it?”

 

“She talked to you first?”

 

“She asked for my help in convincing you to cut back the time to one week,” Rodney said slowly. “I told her she was on her own because I can’t convince you to do anything.”

 

John gave him a sour look. “Shit, Rodney. Do you have to make it that obvious? She already thinks we have a personal problem.”

 

“We don’t have a personal problem,” Rodney shot back. “Other than the fact that you have a deep desire to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.”

 

John was stung. “Every time I risk my life, it’s necessary, Rodney. It’s not like I _want_ to die.”

 

“I know.” Rodney now just sounded tired. “What’s the plan?”

 

“One week for me, one week for you,” John replied. “I think Elizabeth would have asked us to make it shorter, but I’d already told Halling I wouldn’t ask our people to do anything I wasn’t willing to do.”

 

Rodney nodded. “That’s fair. Are you still taking Teyla and Ronon?”

 

“There’s nothing to say they can’t spend two weeks there,” John reminded him. “And I know Teyla was looking forward to it.”

 

“She was.” Rodney squared his shoulders. “Well, that just made my life considerably easier, but you’re leaving in less than an hour now. You’d better get going.”

 

John had no idea what to say. He felt strangely ambivalent about two weeks spent without Rodney. He’d been looking forward to the time with the Athosians, yes—but it was supposed to be time with Rodney, too.

 

“Hey, don’t have too much fun without me, huh?” he finally said, which was probably the lamest line ever.

 

Rodney must not have minded, because his expression softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a real smile. “I’ll try.”

 

John turned to leave, but Rodney’s voice stopped him. “Look, John—” he began, and then seemed to think better of it. “Take care of yourself.”

 

“I’ll try,” John promised. “See you in a week, McKay.”

 

John hated that it felt like goodbye.

 

~~~~~

 

Teyla didn’t have much to pack. She felt the flutter of excitement at the prospect of two weeks among her people, particularly since she would not have to question whether Atlantis would be harmed by her absence. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel torn between two worlds, two duties.

 

The knock on her door surprised her, and Teyla called out a welcome. When only silence followed, she half-turned to face Rodney, who hovered uncertainly in the entrance.

 

“Rodney? Shouldn’t you be packing?”

 

“I’m going over next week,” Rodney replied. “Elizabeth didn’t think it was a good idea for Sheppard and me to be off the city at the same time for so long.”

 

Teyla grimaced. She hadn’t thought of that particular problem, although she probably should have. The Athosians didn’t have the traditional command structures that the Lanteans did, but her people were careful to split the care of the elders among family groups, careful so that not all of the elders and leaders of the Athosians would be taken at once in a culling.

 

So far, they had always been successful.

 

“I see. Does John want Ronon or me to stay behind this week, too?”

 

Rodney shook his head emphatically. “No, no, nothing like that. He thought you guys would want to stay with the Athosians for the full two weeks.”

 

Teyla nodded. “Forgive me for any rudeness, Rodney, but why are you here?”

 

“I need to ask your advice,” Rodney blurted out. “It’s about Sheppard.”

 

Teyla knew her time was growing short, and she hated to be late. “I would be happy to help, but—”

 

“Right, there isn’t time.” Rodney appeared absolutely miserable. “I’ll talk to you next week.”

 

“If you could give me an idea what the problem is, I could think about it this week, and next week we could talk in more detail,” Teyla suggested, wanting to offer him something.

 

“I’m interested in John, and I know he’s interested in me, but when I suggested…” Rodney flushed a deep red and trailed off. “You know what, forget it.”

 

Teyla frowned. “Do you want a relationship with him beyond friendship?”

 

“Yes. I just—I’m afraid I ruined my chance to ask.”

 

Teyla thought for a moment, and decided that without knowing more about the situation she couldn’t very well give advice. She might, however, offer an observation of John’s character and hope Rodney worked out his next step on his own.

 

“John seems to appreciate actions more than words,” she said. “Perhaps you should try _showing_ him how you feel.”

 

Rodney frowned, opened his mouth—probably to argue—and then shut it abruptly. “That’s…a good idea.”

 

Teyla smiled. Rodney really could be tactless, but she always knew where she stood with him. “I do have them occasionally.”

 

“Oh! I didn’t mean to imply that—I just—thank you,” he finally said. “It’s a good idea.”

 

“I hope you can put it to good use,” Teyla replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right this moment.”

 

“Of course.” Rodney followed her out of the room. “Have a good week, Teyla.”

 

Teyla pulled Rodney’s forehead to her own, feeling as though he needed the physical gesture.

 

While Teyla was not late reaching the jumpers, she was the last to arrive, murmuring an apology to the four Marines in the back of John’s jumper. She stowed her gear, taking her traditional seat behind him. Corporal Barnes sat in the co-pilot’s chair, looking supremely uncomfortable to be sitting next to his commanding officer.

 

“Glad you could make it, Teyla,” John said, with a smile that took out any potential sting.

 

“Something came up rather suddenly,” she replied. “But I’m here now.”

 

“Let’s get underway. Barnes, you take us up.”

 

Teyla could hear his audible gulp, and she exchanged an amused look with Ronon, who had the seat behind Barnes. “Yes, sir,” Barnes said.

 

The takeoff, while not as smooth as John’s, was not as bad as it could have been for someone with so little training.

 

“Good,” John said. He didn’t hesitate to offer praise where it was due, at least for those under his command. “Now let’s see if you can fly it in a straight line.”

 

Ronon smirked, and Teyla leaned back in her seat, content to watch John instruct Barnes in the finer points of piloting a jumper. By the time Barnes landed, he’d relaxed considerably. Teyla thought that by the time the week was out, John would have convinced Barnes he was worthy of respect, and Barnes would follow John into a hive ship, just like all of the other military personnel on Atlantis.

 

“Good landing,” John said. “Well done, Corporal.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Barnes said, flushing with pride.

 

Teyla allowed the four Marines in the cargo area to disembark first. She caught sight of Major Lorne immediately. He looked tanned and fit, wearing a grubby white t-shirt and loose trousers that Teyla thought had probably belonged to one of her people.

 

As John might say, Major Lorne had gone native.

 

“Good to see you, sir,” Lorne said as soon as John emerged from the jumper.

 

“You’re out of uniform, Lorne,” John observed, although his grin suggested that he didn’t care.

 

“Yes, sir,” Lorne replied. “No offense, sir, but black is too hot to wear in the middle of the fields.”

 

John waved off the explanation. “Lorne, I don’t care what you wear as long as you get the job done.”

 

Lorne moved closer, speaking in low tones. Teyla started to approach in order to overhear their conversation, but Halling approached her with his hands outstretched. “Teyla.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to see you,” Teyla said, turning her attention to Halling. “Have the Lanteans been of help?”

 

“More than I’d hoped,” Halling confessed with a conspiratorial smile. “We have formed close connections these last two weeks.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Teyla said. “I’d worried.”

 

“As had I,” Halling replied. “But if we continue on in this vein, we will have enough food for our people and theirs for the next year.”

 

“That is good news.” She glanced over to see Lorne taking a step back from John, apparently responding to a call from one of her people. As he approached, Teyla recognized Laro, whom she hadn’t seen for months now. “ _Very_ close connections?” Teyla asked in a murmur as Laro pressed a wrapped object into Lorne’s hands.

 

Halling smiled. “You could say that. Laro has not expressed an interest in anything but his art in a very long time.”

 

“So I’ve noticed,” Teyla replied, watching as Lorne blushed and accepted the gift. “How long has this been going on?”

  
“Laro has been giving Major Lorne lessons this last week. I imagine that we can expect him to ask Colonel Sheppard for permissions to visit Atlantis.”

 

“John is only staying for the first week,” Teyla informed him. “Elizabeth believed it too dangerous to leave Atlantis without its military commander or its chief of sciences for any longer.”

 

Halling nodded. “I had wondered. You and I both know the heavy burden a leader must bear.”

 

“I do,” Teyla agreed. She turned to smile at John as he strolled up to greet Halling.

 

“I’m sure Teyla already told you that I can’t stay more than a week,” John said. “Sorry about that.”

 

“I understand,” Halling assured him.

 

John nodded at Lorne and Laro, who were still saying their goodbyes. “Anything I should worry about?”

 

“Laro is a master craftsman, and he’s unattached,” Halling replied. “Many in his family have been culled, and he keeps to himself. His work is highly prized, and provides valuable trade goods for us.”

 

John nodded, making a noncommittal sound.

 

“The items that Laro makes are both beautiful and very valuable,” Teyla said.

 

“Seems like making pottery takes a knack,” John observed.

 

Teyla smiled. “It does, and Laro is not known for wasting his time.”

 

“I’m told that Major Lorne has picked things up quickly,” Halling said.

 

Lorne joined them, the item tucked under his arm still in its wrapping. He was flushed, a pleased smile on his lips. “If you don’t need me for anything else, Colonel, I’ll finish loading my things.”

 

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Major,” John drawled. “Let’s see what you’ve got there.”

 

Lorne flushed a deeper shade of red. “Uh…yes, sir.”

 

Teyla recognized the distinctive lines of one of Laro’s bowls, one that would fetch quite a price in trade. “That is a great gift, Major.”

 

“I’m aware.” Lorne tried—and failed—to suppress a grin. “He does amazing work.”

 

“He does,” Halling agreed.

 

Lorne glanced at John. “Sir, if you don’t need me—”

 

“Go,” John said. “And I’ll expect you to pilot the jumper bringing the next team next week, Major.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Lorne said, keeping a straight face.

 

Teyla looked over at John as Lorne jogged off. “That was kind, John.”

 

“Hey, somebody ought to be getting some action,” John replied, his tone slightly sour.

 

Teyla exchanged a look with Halling and decided not to press the matter. She suspected that it had something to do with Rodney’s last minute request for advice, but Teyla wasn’t about to get in the middle.

 

“And if Laro asks to visit Atlantis?” Halling asked.

 

John shrugged. “I don’t see where the harm would be in a visit.”

 

“No harm at all,” Halling replied.

 

Teyla felt a thrum of contentment as she settled into one of the tents that had been set aside for the Lanteans. Before Charin’s death, Teyla had stayed in her tent when visiting, and since then, there had been others who were more than willing to share space. Now that the Athosians had a permanent arrangement with the Lanteans, two tents had been reserved for those who stayed on the mainland.

 

Although Teyla knew the Lanteans would likely have chosen to arrange sleeping quarters along gender lines, her people formed family groups, and John had decreed that teams would share a tent in keeping with local custom.

 

Teyla sensed that John was trying to encourage those on Atlantis to do as he had done—to find family among team members, and she approved. In fact, the only thing preventing Teyla from being perfectly happy was Rodney’s absence, and she suspected John and Ronon felt much the same way.

 

And, while she understood why John and Elizabeth had decided to split up the team for these two weeks, she feared that it was a harbinger of things to come. There might come a time when Elizabeth determined that she could not risk both Rodney and John on the same mission.

 

Still, even with Rodney’s absence, Teyla thought that being back among her people for two weeks was a little like pulling on her favorite pair of pants, the ones that fit her like a second skin, and were worn in all the right places. Sitting down to dinner at Halling’s fire, with a tankard of Varani ale, Teyla felt at ease, in a way she had not since giving up her place as leader to Halling.

 

Teyla mourned on her friends’ behalf, and for the loss of a world she’d seen only through John’s eyes, but she couldn’t regret the closer ties that had been forged between her people and the Lanteans.

 

Jinto sat between John and Ronon, looking from one to the other with hero-worship in his eyes, and although the boy behaved himself, Teyla could see Jinto vibrating with questions.

 

John had always been good with children, and halfway through the meal, he nudged Jinto with his elbow. “Go ahead and ask,” John whispered conspiratorially.

 

Jinto immediately turned to Ronon. “Is it true you’ve killed a million Wraith?”

 

Ronon’s lips twitched. “Not that many.”

 

“Can I see your gun?” Jinto asked.

 

Ronon glanced at Halling for approval and received a brief nod in reply. “Look, but don’t touch.”

 

Jinto stared at Ronon’s weapon with the same avarice John sometimes displayed, his blue eyes wide. “May I see your sword?”

 

“Jinto—” Halling began, a warning in his voice, but Ronon waved him off.

 

“It’s fine,” Ronon said. “I was curious at his age, too.”

 

Teyla glanced at John, seeing a heightened interest on his face. Ronon didn’t speak of his past. He made oblique references to his time as a runner on occasion, but he rarely talked about Sateda. Ronon’s life before the Wraith had been destroyed, and his world remained a mystery.

 

Jinto stared at Ronon’s blade with the same wide-eyed wonder, and cautiously asked, “How did you learn to use such weapons?”

 

“The military,” Ronon replied briefly.

 

Jinto opened his mouth to ask another question, and Halling said again, “Jinto.”

 

This time, Jinto heeded the warning and subsided. Teyla turned the conversation to safer subjects, mostly gossip about various Athosians and their kin, as well as a few off-world contacts Halling had seen more recently than she had.

 

Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Corporal Barnes and two of the Athosians Teyla had recommended as guides. “There’s a knife-throwing contest, sir,” Barnes said. “We thought Ronon might want to know.”

 

Ronon glanced over at John, who shrugged. “Up to you, Chewie.”

 

Ronon’s answering grin was fierce. “Coming, Sheppard?”

 

“Don’t mind if I do,” John replied, getting to his feet with an easy grace.

 

Jinto sent a pleading look Halling’s way. “Father? May I?”

 

“If you don’t mind, I can keep an eye on him,” John promised.

 

Halling nodded. “Go on, but remember that you still have chores tomorrow, Jinto.”

 

Jinto rolled his eyes, but dutifully said, “Yes, Father,” and John draped an arm over the boy’s shoulders.

 

“Ronon’s going to kick some butt,” John predicted as they headed away from Halling’s tent.

 

The sun hung low in the sky, but there was just enough light to allow for such displays of skill. Teyla could hear laughter and conversation, the joyful sounds of a secure people. It had been a long time since she’d witnessed such a gathering.

 

“They will remember tomorrow why it is unwise to drink _ruus_ wine, except at festivals,” Halling predicted.

 

Teyla smiled. “They are young, and will recover much more quickly than either of us would.” She hesitated and said, “Jinto has grown.”

 

“Sometimes, when I wake in the night, I look over at him and think that I can _see_ him getting bigger,” Halling admitted. After a pause, he added, “He wants to be a warrior, and he is at an age where he does not think much of his father.”

 

“I seem to recall that you went through such a phase,” Teyla replied with a smile.

 

Halling chuckled. “I did, but it’s easy to forget.”

 

“I will have a word with John,” Teyla promised. “Perhaps he can sing the praises of farmers.”

 

Halling shook his head. “Jinto will have to learn a warrior’s ways. I would prefer that he learn how to fight from someone I trust.”

 

Teyla belatedly realized what Halling meant. “You wish me to teach him?”

 

“He’s been playing Wraith and hunter since he was small,” Halling replied. “And he wishes to learn how to fight. If you would teach him how to use the _bantos_ , I could console myself that at least he is learning the ways of our people.”

 

Teyla nodded. “I would be honored to give Jinto lessons as I am able.”

 

“Only as you are able,” Halling replied. “And please, do not go easy on him. I trust you to teach him that the warrior’s path is not only about glory, but also about pain.”

 

“Pain, and the acceptance of suffering,” Teyla agreed. “Perhaps Jinto will turn from the path as he learns that lesson.”

 

Halling sighed. “Perhaps, though I wish all of our people could forgo such lessons, Teyla.”

 

“The Lanteans offer our best chance for such a hope,” Teyla pointed out, long used to bridging the gap between the two worlds.

 

Halling nodded. “And that is why I didn’t hesitate to create a deeper bond between our peoples. It’s to their credit that they are willing to stay and fight the Wraith with us, rather than going back to their home.”

 

“It is,” Teyla agreed. “But _this_ is their home.”

 

“And now that our peoples are more tightly knitted together, what will you do?” Halling asked. “Will you come back to us?”

 

“I have a family on Atlantis, Halling. I believe I may serve our people there better than I would here.”

 

“I agree,” Halling said. “But I had to ask.”

 

Teyla inclined her head. “I understand.”

 

The silence that fell between them was not uncomfortable. They had known each other too long for that, and even when they didn’t see eye to eye, there was a level of understanding that eased Teyla’s heart.

 

And yes, she would likely be happy to return to Atlantis in two weeks, but she was content to be here at the moment.

 

~~~~~

 

Evan grinned as he stepped off the jumper to see Radek waiting. Radek had a tablet in hand, and he appeared to be in the process of going over the docked jumpers, but Evan knew that if he’d truly been engaged in his task, Radek wouldn’t have watched the team disembark.

 

With his duffel over one shoulder, and Laro’s bowl tucked under his opposite arm, Evan jogged over to say hello. Radek’s sharp blue eyes peered out from behind smudged lenses. “What do you have there, Major?” he asked.

 

Evan tried to fight the blush, but it was a lost cause. “Uh, Laro—one of the Athosians—gave it to me.”

 

“The workmanship is exquisite,” Radek noted when Evan removed the wrapping to show off his gift.

 

“He gave me a few lessons.”

 

“You are a Renaissance man, then,” Radek suggested, his tone gently mocking. “You paint, you make pots, you play chess. Is there anything you cannot do?”

 

Evan grinned. “I can’t cook to save my life.”

 

“And thus you are saved from boring perfection,” Radek teased.

 

Evan shrugged. “Thank God.”

 

“You will play chess with me tonight?”

 

“I will,” Evan promised. “I’ve missed it.”

 

Radek smiled. “As have I.”

 

“Major Lorne!” Dr. Weir called as she approached. “Go get checked out, and then join me in the conference room for a debriefing.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, nodding at Radek.

 

Evan swung by his quarters to drop his things off, and then headed for the infirmary. Dr. Beckett waved him to one of the empty beds. Although everybody who’d spent the last two weeks with the Athosians were scattered around the infirmary, Evan couldn’t see any other patients.

 

“Seems like you’ve had a couple of quiet weeks,” Evan said when Beckett showed up to draw a sample of blood.

 

Beckett glared at him. “You’re going to jinx us with talk like that, lad.”

 

“Sorry,” Evan said immediately. “But aren’t we due for an emergency soon?”

 

“Let’s hope we can avoid it,” Beckett said grimly. “We still have the Wraith to worry about. I haven’t forgotten.”

 

“Nobody’s forgotten about it,” Evan assured him.

 

Beckett shook his head. “Of course you have. We live in the moment, Major. What other choice do we have?”

 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t plan ahead,” Evan objected, although he knew there wasn’t much they could do to plan. Almost everything they did was reactive; that was just the nature of the game.

 

Beckett patted him on the shoulder. “You’re cleared, Major. It looks like your time with the Athosians was good for you.”

 

“They’re an amazing people,” Evan replied with complete sincerity.

 

Beckett smiled. “Aye. They’re lovely. Off with you now.”

 

Evan had just enough time to shower and change into a clean uniform before meeting Dr. Weir in the conference room. Dr. McKay entered shortly after he did, still typing away on his tablet. Dr. Beckett hurried inside, and Stackhouse and Cadman dropped into the seats on either side of Lorne.

 

“I’d like a report on your time on the mainland as soon as you can get to it,” Dr. Weir said. “And I’ve heard from the Ebrus. They’ve had an outbreak of what they call the planting sickness and have requested our help. Dr. Beckett is leaving tomorrow morning, and I want you to accompany him, Major.”

 

Evan nodded. “Of course. What if they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”

 

“Tell them we want to prove our trustworthiness before we try to gain access to their temple, and Colonel Sheppard is currently fulfilling a promise made to our allies.”

 

It was the kind of diplomatic response Evan had come to expect from Dr. Weir, and while he could employ that sort of tact, he hadn’t had much experience. Since coming to Atlantis, Evan had executed a hell of a lot of search and rescue missions, but first contacts generally went to Sheppard’s team.

 

“Anything else I should know?” Evan asked.

 

“We’ll want to identify the source of the illness,” Dr. Beckett said. “We don’t currently have an entomologist, but Dr. Parrish has some knowledge that might be helpful.”

 

Dr. Weir nodded. “Take Dr. Parrish, then. Anyone else?”

 

Evan considered the question. “Cadman and Reeves, just in case. They’re both handy in a fight, and they know how to keep their mouths shut.” He carefully didn’t look at Cadman when he said it, but he caught her grin out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Agreed,” Elizabeth said. “Reeves has some training as a medic, doesn’t he?”

 

Evan nodded. “He did. It was one of the reasons he was chosen to come to Atlantis, along with his gene, and pilot’s training.”

 

“Good, he can assist Dr. Beckett and his people,” Dr. Weir stated. “You leave at 0800 tomorrow, so get some rest.”

 

Cadman and Stackhouse fell in on either side of Evan as he left the conference room. “So, how was it, sir?” Cadman asked.

 

“How was what?” Evan asked, playing dumb.

 

Cadman gave him a look that said she knew he was messing with her. “I’m going in two weeks,” she pointed out. “And Stackhouse has the shift after me. We’d like to know what to expect.”

 

“You’ll have access to my report after I’ve given a copy to Dr. Weir,” Evan replied, heading for his office.

 

Cadman didn’t wait for an invitation; she dropped into a chair across from his desk. Not for the first time, Evan thought that Cadman’s expertise with explosives probably allowed her to get away with a lot.

 

Either that, or being on Atlantis had given her freer rein.

 

Stackhouse was a little more circumspect, hovering uncertainly next to the door.

 

“Come in,” Evan sighed. “You’ve both had dealings with the Athosians. They’re gracious hosts.”

 

Stackhouse sat down in the other chair. “Yes, sir, but it’s a little different now.”

 

Evan was about to say that they’d be with their teams, and then he remembered that they were both floaters, meaning that they didn’t have a permanent team. He quickly pulled up the roster for assignments and said, “The food is good, and they’ve got two tents set aside for us. You can split up quarters however you want, although the colonel suggested dividing them between teams. It’s hard work, but it’s not unpleasant. You’ll be fine.”

 

“I blow things up,” Cadman pointed out. “I joined the Marines so I didn’t have to be a farmer.”

 

“Maybe they’ll find something for you to blow up,” Evan suggested. “I don’t need to remind you how important this alliance is, Lieutenant. We need supplies, and the Athosians have offered us a close alliance and a low-risk way of getting those supplies.”

 

“I get the importance, sir,” Cadman assured him. “No way am I going to screw it up.”

 

“I’m not worried that you will,” Evan replied. “Anybody we couldn’t trust didn’t make it on the rotation. Don’t worry about it. You’ll have fun.”

 

“Like you did?” Cadman asked. “Scuttlebutt says you made a friend.”

 

Evan _just_ managed to keep a straight face, and to keep the blush from creeping up his neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Sure,” Cadman drawled. “Just so you know, and based on your example, I’m hoping to meet a gorgeous guy and live happily ever after.”

 

“Get out of here,” Evan growled. “Both of you.”

 

Cadman grinned at him cheekily, but Stackhouse didn’t hesitate to rise to his feet. “Thank you for your time, sir,” he said.

 

Cadman glared at Stackhouse but said, “Thank you, sir.”

 

“I have a report to write,” Lorne said. “I’m sure you both have things to do.”

 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Cadman shot back.

 

Evan shook his head. Cadman had a point about his report; reports always contained the bare bones and little more. The scuttlebutt generally contained the juicier details, which made its way through Atlantis like wildfire.

 

He couldn’t blame Cadman and Stackhouse for wanting the inside scoop. Evan probably would have cornered Sheppard for details if the colonel had won the coin toss.

 

Evan finished his report in short order and sent it on to Elizabeth. Radek was already in the mess by the time Evan arrived for dinner, and he quickly filled his tray and joined his friend.

 

“I hear you have a mission tomorrow,” Radek said as Evan sat down across from him.

 

Evan shrugged. “It will have to be a short game tonight, I’m afraid.”

 

“And that is different from another night, how?” Radek asked with a wicked glint in his eye.

 

Evan couldn’t suppress his grin. “I’ll beat you one of these days, old man.”

 

Radek’s eyes twinkled merrily. “Ah, but with age comes wisdom, my friend. Now, tell me about the friend you made with the Athosians.”

 

Evan shook his head. “How did you hear about that?”

 

“This is Atlantis,” Radek reminded him. “Gossip is an art form.”

 

Evan shrugged. “I guess so.”

 

“So?”

 

Evan smiled. “His name is Laro.”

 

“This I already knew,” Radek replied. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

 

Evan hesitated briefly. He’d been hiding in plain sight for so long, it felt strange to be open about his relationship—or proto-relationship—now. And yet, there was no censure in Radek’s eyes, only a gentle concern.

 

He appreciated that he could be honest with Radek.

 

“He’s going to ask for permission to visit Atlantis for a few weeks,” Evan offered.

 

Radek smiled. “Now, that’s a good start.”

 

~~~~~

 

Elizabeth hated waiting. She’d grown used to it since coming to Atlantis; as the expedition head, she couldn’t go haring off whenever she’d like. When she did leave the city, it was generally because her expertise was needed, and no one else would do.

 

But now… There was no one else to take her place if she were killed off-world. There was John, of course, and he’d do a fine job, but Elizabeth also knew that he didn’t want the position. Rodney could handle it in a pinch, but there weren’t many others.

 

In time, maybe, other teams from the SGC would make their way to Atlantis, and there would be other senior officers who could take their places if necessary. But until then, Elizabeth would be forced to wait and watch, to stay on Atlantis, even though she wanted to spend time with the Ebrus and the Athosians, to cement old alliances and make new ones.

 

That’s what she’d come to Pegasus to do, after all. She hadn’t known that her position would make it harder, not easier, to accomplish her goals.

 

The alarms for a gate activation sounded, and Elizabeth made her way from her office to the control room. Chuck’s fingers flew over the touch pad as the wormhole whooshed to life. “It’s Major Lorne’s IDC, ma’am,” he said.

 

“Lower the shield,” she ordered. Lorne was right on time, and she felt herself relax ever so slightly.

 

Lorne stepped through the gate first, raising a hand in greeting and reassurance. The rest of the team followed close behind, no one looking the worse for wear. Carson waved to her as well, offering a reassuring smile.

 

Elizabeth headed down the stairs. “I take it there weren’t any problems?”

 

Carson shook his head. “The Ebrus are quite hospitable, Dr. Weir, and were very grateful for our assistance.”

 

“You discovered what was causing the illness?” she asked, glancing over at Dr. Parrish.

 

Parrish shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I believe we’ve discovered the insect responsible. As we suspected, it’s similar to the Earth mosquito, and we’re going to attempt to come up with a way to stop its breeding without a negative effect on the ecosystem.”

 

“Good work,” Elizabeth replied. “Carson?”

 

“It’s similar enough to malaria to make it easier to devise a treatment. We took along plenty of mosquito netting, and that should make an impact in the spread.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s just a matter of treating symptoms.”

 

Elizabeth looked at Lorne. “Did they ask about Colonel Sheppard?”

 

“They did, but I explained the circumstances. Brista seemed relieved that we weren’t too eager to gain access to the ruins. They’re expecting the colonel’s arrival next week, though.”

 

“Good. We’ll plan on that. Well done, people,” Elizabeth called out. “Get checked out, and then enjoy your evening off.”

 

Carson and Lorne followed Elizabeth to her office, as she’d half-expected. “What else do you have for me?” she asked as the door slid shut behind them.

 

“They’re a fundamentally peaceful people,” Carson said slowly, his Scottish brogue thick. “They welcomed us with open arms.”

 

“And their response to Colonel Sheppard’s absence?” Elizabeth queried, wanting more details.

 

Lorne shook his head. “They seemed pleased, to be honest. Brista appeared to be gratified that we were willing to help, even without gaining access to the temple. It was a good call.”

 

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied. “Anything else I need to know?”

 

“We were able to discover a little more about the purification ritual,” Lorne replied. “They require a fast, and a hike to the sacred temple without weapons or shoes. It’s a symbolic gesture, but it’s nothing too arduous.”

 

“I understand,” Elizabeth replied. “Did you discover any more information about whether the ritual can be aborted?”

 

Carson shook his head. “Nothing from my end.”

 

“Brista reiterated that no one had ever died as a result of the ritual,” Lorne replied. “My understanding is that Colonel Sheppard can abort at any time.”

 

“That’s good to know,” Elizabeth replied. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”

 

They left her with her thoughts, and acting on impulse, Elizabeth called down to Chuck. “Begin scanning all channels, Chuck. I want to be sure that we don’t miss any messages from SGC teams.”

 

“You got it, Dr. Weir.”

 

Elizabeth missed Teyla and Ronon. She missed John, too, and while she’d ordered daily check-ins for each team spending time on the mainland, it wasn’t the same.

 

Still, there were only a couple of hours until John was due to check in, so it behooved Elizabeth to stay in her office.

 

When John’s call did come in, Elizabeth answered immediately. “How are you?”

 

“We’re good,” John assured her. “The crops are in the ground, and they’re looking forward to Rodney’s help with the irrigation next week, but we’ve got enough to keep us busy until then.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Elizabeth replied.

 

“Wasn’t Lorne going to spend time with the Ebrus today?” John asked.

 

Elizabeth quickly filled him in, and added, “They’re expecting you next week.” She gave him a run-down of what Lorne had said about the ritual. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

 

“It’s the principle of the thing,” John replied. “I can’t ask anybody to do what I won’t. Tell you what, though. If we get another chance like this, I’ll let someone else do it.”

 

Elizabeth can’t fault his sense of honor. “You’re on.”

 

“Talk to you tomorrow,” John promised.

 

“You’d better.”

 

When Elizabeth finished up for the day, she headed for the cafeteria. She had planned on eating alone, but when Zelenka waved her over, Elizabeth joined him and Major Lorne.

 

“I hear that we have a source of cloth,” Zelenka said. “Congratulations.”

 

Lorne gave him a hard look. “It’s not as simple as that.”

 

“It never is,” Elizabeth observed, beginning to dig in to the mystery casserole.

 

Lorne sighed. “I’ve included this in my report, but black is not a color the Ebrus embrace.”

 

“But they can provide it,” Zelenka inserted.

 

“No, but they can do something close to charcoal gray.” Lorne shrugged. “From what Brista said, a true black is nearly impossible to dye. The closest they can come is a charcoal gray, which occurs naturally in the fleece of the _orkna_ they breed.”

 

“I think we can get by without a true black,” Elizabeth replied. “We’ll utilize whatever cloth we can get.”

 

“Good luck with that, ma’am,” Lorne muttered.

 

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Do you think it’s going to be a problem, Major?”

 

“You know how Colonel Sheppard feels about black,” Lorne replied.

 

Elizabeth sighed. “Then he’ll just have to get used to the idea,” Elizabeth replied. “If charcoal gray is the best we can do, then that’s what we’ll use. End of story.”

 

“If you say so, ma’am,” Lorne replied with a wry twist of his mouth.

 

Elizabeth could appreciate Lorne’s sense of humor; Colonel Sheppard tended to wear _a lot_ of black. “Colonel Sheppard’s fashion choices aside, will we have enough cloth for the entire expedition?”

 

Lorne shook his head. “There’s no way, especially given how hard we are on uniforms.”

 

“Any suggestions?” Elizabeth asked.

 

Lorne glanced at Zelenka, who shrugged. “We could use more durable materials.”

 

“Outfitting the entire expedition in leather seems a little much,” Elizabeth objected.

 

Lorne frowned thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad idea, though, at least for off-world missions. We won’t have to worry about it for a while, but it’s going to become an issue. I doubt there’s a trading partner we could find who could fully supply our needs.”

 

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Elizabeth said. “I’m hesitant to make any decision that results in us looking like a bunch of space pirates.”

 

Lorne smirked, and Zelenka snorted. “As long as we don’t make eye patches part of the uniform, I think we can avoid it,” Lorne replied cheerfully.

 

“I’ll try to resist,” Elizabeth said dryly.

 

Zelenka asked Lorne a question about his time with the Athosians, neatly changing the subject. Elizabeth tucked into her meal, letting the conversation wash over her, grateful for the company, which served as a distraction from her own melancholy thoughts.


	9. Drifting

_“We’d been making good time up to the point we had the leak. At that point, we were close to Pegasus, and our only option was to make the best possible speed for Atlantis and hope to find a planet that would allow us to replenish our food stores. Honestly, none of us thought we’d make it. You don’t know what it’s like to be stuck on a ship that’s likely to be your coffin, with the people you love most in the world, knowing that they’re going to die right along with you. It leaves a mark.”_

 

~Interview with Vala Mal Doran

 

Daniel slumped in the co-pilot’s seat, his feet propped up on the console. “This sucks.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Mitchell replied. He hit the intercom. “Ladies? How’s it going?”

 

The intercom buzzed a moment later. “We don’t have the parts to make a complete repair.” Sam’s voice was apologetic. “Sorry, Cam. I’ll get you all the speed I can, but we’re not going to get the hyperdrive engine back.”

 

Mitchell swore, but said, “All right. Do what you can.”

 

“Where does that put us?” Daniel asked quietly once the intercom was off.

 

Mitchell shook his head. “We’ll hit the edge of Pegasus in four, maybe five days.”

 

Daniel rubbed his face. “If we don’t find a planet with some kind of food as soon as we hit Pegasus, we’re going to be fucked, and our water supply isn’t going to last much longer.” He swore. “If those damn smugglers had been a little more inclined towards cleaning, we’d still have most of our food supplies. Fucking fungus.”

 

“I know,” Cam said wearily. “We’ve all kicked ourselves for not catching it sooner.”

 

“Yeah.” Daniel put his hands over his face. “We need to decide how we’re going to handle it.”

 

Mitchell shot him a skeptical look. “If you want to try giving our share to the women, I’ll let you be the one to break the news, because they’re going to be pissed as hell.”

 

Daniel grimaced. “Think I’ll pass, thanks.”

 

“That _was_ what you were going to suggest.”

 

“Actually, I was thinking that the pilots among us should probably be the ones to eat regularly.”

 

Mitchell snorted. “Do you seriously think Vala would let you get away with that? She would probably get Sam to sit on you, and then she’d force-feed you herself.”

 

Daniel chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

 

“I _know_ I’m right. I don’t know if you got the memo, but Vala’s pretty much decided you’re hers.”

 

Daniel couldn’t stop the pleased smile from crossing his face. “Yeah, I think I got that memo.”

 

“Besides, we’re a team,” Mitchell continued. “We’re not going to sit around and watch you starve. We’ll share and share alike as long as we’ve got food and water. End of story.”

 

Daniel appreciated that sentiment. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat anything if he knew one of his team members was starving.

 

“What do you think is happening?” he asked. “Back on earth,” he added to clarify.

 

Mitchell leaned his head back in the pilot’s seat. “I don’t know.” It was a cop-out, and Daniel was about to say that, but Mitchell kept going. “But if I had to guess, the Trust is moving slowly, consolidating its position. They’ll take over key positions in various world governments, and then they’ll start cracking down.”

 

“Like that frog in a pot of water,” Daniel observed. “Slowly heating it up so the frog doesn’t know it’s boiling.”

 

“That’s a myth, you know,” Mitchell replied. “The frog will jump out of the water long before it reaches the boiling point.”

 

Daniel chuckled, surprised that Mitchell knew that fact. “Same principle applies, though.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“Do you think they’ve caught Jack yet?”

 

“General O’Neill is pretty wily,” Mitchell replied.

 

Daniel glanced over at him incredulously. “Did you just say ‘wily?’”

 

“What? It’s true.”

 

“Nobody uses that word anymore.”

 

“Well, they should. It’s a great word.”

 

“You’re thinking of Wile E. Coyote,” Daniel accused.

 

Mitchell shrugged. “So what if I am?”

 

Daniel laughed. “Fair enough.”

 

“If anyone could stay out of the Trust’s clutches, it would be General O’Neill,” Mitchell said, sincerely. “And if they did catch him, Teal’c can get him out. Come on, Daniel. This is General O’Neill and Teal’c. If I could walk again, they can escape.”

 

“I know. You’re right. Of course, you’re right.” Daniel grinned suddenly, caught by a memory. “You read the mission report from when we blew up Apophis’ ship right before he invaded, didn’t you?”

 

“I read _all_ the mission reports.”

 

“You’re insane. You know that, right?”

 

“I’ve been told,” Mitchell drawled. “Go on.”

 

“So, everybody thought I was dead,” Daniel said. “If I hadn’t gotten into a sarcophagus, I _would_ have been dead. When Jack and the others showed back up at the SGC, Jack grabbed me and called me ‘space monkey,’”

 

“Space monkey?”

 

Daniel shrugged. “What?”

 

“What?”

 

“It was a thing,” Daniel said. “The point is, it was impossible odds. We all should have died then. _I_ should have died.”

 

“And here you are.”

 

“Here I am,” Daniel agreed.

 

“Impossible odds.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“An SG-1 specialty.”

 

“Seems like.”

 

They grinned at each other, but the amusement quickly faded away.

 

“I miss him so fucking much,” Daniel admitted hoarsely. “No offense, Cam, but I’ve missed him since he took the promotion and started riding a desk.”

 

“No offense taken,” Mitchell said quietly. “I don’t blame you. I miss him, and I never got a chance to serve under him.”

 

Daniel shook his head. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do in Pegasus, you know? I know I’ve wanted to go to Atlantis for years, but—”

 

“This isn’t the way you wanted to go?”

 

“No,” Daniel agreed. “I wanted to know that I’d left my team and Earth behind, and intact.”

 

“So, we get to Atlantis, and then we free Earth,” Cam tossed out. “What else _can_ we do?”

 

“Nothing,” Daniel replied. “There’s nothing we can do.”

 

Sam and Vala poked their heads into the cockpit. “Are you two okay?” Sam asked.

 

“We’re good.” Mitchell twisted in his chair. “We’ll need to take stock and reduce our rations. I want to be conservative, but I don’t want anybody dying of thirst or hunger.”

 

“Why don’t you look yourself, then?” Vala suggested, coming into the cockpit. “I’ll take your place.”

 

Mitchell shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Sam?”

 

“I’m with you,” Sam replied.

 

Vala took Mitchell’s place in the pilot’s chair, and Daniel leaned back in his own seat as Cam helped Sam out to the engine room. “How bad is it?”

 

“About as bad as we thought,” Vala replied. “We’re still going to make relatively good time, though.”

 

“Define ‘relatively good,”” Daniel said.

 

Vala shrugged. “It means that we won’t starve or die of dehydration before we reach Pegasus, but there’s no guarantee about reaching Atlantis.”

 

“Fair enough,” Daniel replied. “There never were any guarantees.”

 

“No, there weren’t.”

 

Vala reached out, pulling Daniel close for a kiss. Daniel wanted to devour her, to drink her in. He wanted to make love to her, to spend hours discovering her body.

 

He wanted privacy, and the time to explore, and Daniel knew he would get neither. Mitchell and Sam had been kind to allow him as much time alone with Vala as he’d had.

 

Instead, Daniel had to settle for his position in the co-pilot’s seat, and Vala straddling him, which wasn’t a bad trade-off as things went.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t think this ship is big enough for the four of us,” Sam joked as she took inventory of their food stores for the twelfth time.

 

Cam grinned. “Can you blame them?”

 

“No, but I think we’d all be happier for a little privacy.”

 

“I’m hurt,” Cam said, putting his hand over his heart. “You don’t want to spend 24 hours a day every day with your team?”

 

Sam shot him a look. “And you don’t want to either.”

 

Cam sat down, leaning up against the bulkhead. “You know what I want? I want a beer—a cheap, American beer—and a football game.”

 

“I want a hot shower, clean clothes, and a sappy movie,” Sam countered, sitting down next to him.

 

“Action flick,” Cam said. “Something with Bruce Willis.”

 

“My bed.”

 

“Amy Vandenburg’s bed,” Cam said with a grin. “Not that I was ever going to see it.”

 

“You’re an intergalactic space hero,” Sam teased.

 

“Who can’t talk about being an intergalactic space hero,” Cam countered. “Or about work, or about why I can’t always return her phone calls because I’m not on the planet. It’s all a moot point now.”

 

Sam grimaced sympathetically. “Yeah, been there, done that.” She didn’t like to think about Pete, still feeling the sting of regret. Looking back, she wondered if she’d led him on. Sam hadn’t believed that’s what she’d been doing at the time. Sam really had believed that she could make a life with Pete.

 

In the end, it hadn’t worked out. She’d loved him, but it hadn’t been enough. Sam had realized that her job was always going to take precedence, and Sam couldn’t give it up.

 

“It helps when you’re both working at the SGC,” Sam offers. “It’s probably a miracle that anybody there manages to have a family.”

 

“Some of the guys seem to make it work,” Cam pointed out. “But I think most of them got married before they were posted at the SGC, and most of them worked covert ops before.”

 

“Spouses get used to not getting the whole story,” Sam said. “And then the relationship works, or it doesn’t.”

 

“What about you and the general?” Cam asked quietly. “Were you making it work?”

 

“Mostly,” Sam replied. “We were used to not having a relationship at all, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

Sam felt unexpected tears burn in her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. She’d been trying not to think about Jack, trying not to think about all the people she’d left behind.

 

“Oh, hey,” Cam said, his voice low and helpless. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

 

Sam shook her head, unable to reply, the words caught in her throat. She felt his hesitation, but he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

 

And God, Sam could remember Jack doing this very same thing for her when a mission had gone bad, just hanging onto her, letting her fall apart for a little while until she could pick herself back up again.

 

Sam felt Cam brush his lips over the top of her head, and he rocked her a bit. She couldn’t hold in the emotions after that. She just let go.

 

Cam didn’t say a word, and Sam loved him a little bit for that.

 

When she had calmed down, Cam loosened his grip, but he didn’t let her go, and Sam leaned on him.

 

“You okay?” Cam finally asked, his own voice a little thick.

 

“I will be. I think I just needed to get that out of my system.”

 

“My mom always said there was a lot of value in a good cry,” Cam replied. “Although I never understood what she meant.”

 

Sam swiped at her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Maybe it’s a woman thing.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

She risked a glance at Cam, whose eyes were red. “You okay?”

 

“I haven’t been back home for more than a week or two since I graduated from the Academy,” Cam said softly. “And other than that first year, I was never really homesick.”

 

“And you are now.”

 

“I am now,” he agreed.

 

Sam rested her head on Cam’s shoulder. “I miss my dad a lot,” she said. “Especially after he joined the Tok’ra, I always counted on him to come riding in to the rescue.”

 

“I’ve heard the stories,” Cam said. “I’ve read the mission reports.”

 

“He was something else.” Sam smiled. “It’s strange, but I was closer to him after he left Earth. I certainly saw him more often while he was a host.”

 

Cam grunted. “I always thought my dad was the biggest damn hero on the planet. He was a pilot, too, you know?”

 

“I didn’t know.”

 

“He lost his legs in a crash, and he got back up.”

 

“So did you.”

 

“Well, I still had legs to work with.”

 

“We’ll get back up.”

 

Cam sighed. “We’ve got enough food for four days, and enough water for a week, and it’s going to take at least five days just to reach the edge of Pegasus.”

 

“If we each have one meal per day, no more than a cup or two of water, and we limit physical activity, we can make it.”

 

Cam rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Okay. Okay. We can eat when we get to Atlantis, right?”

 

Sam hoped that would be the case. “I guess we’ll find the closest planet with a gate, and then call for help.”

 

“Piece of cake,” Cam said, but he left his arm around Sam’s shoulders, and she stayed where she was, taking what comfort she could.

 

~~~~~

 

Vala yawned widely and checked the sensors again. They should be nearing Pegasus by now, which was a good thing. Gnawing hunger was giving way to a hollow feeling, along with the requisite dizziness and light-headedness. All of them were sleeping as much as they could to conserve energy, and Vala didn’t even mind. She was too hungry, too thirsty, and too tired to be bored.

 

Alarms started going off all over the ship, and Vala cursed as she watched the readouts. The coolant system had sprung another leak, which did not bode well for their continued ability to fly.

 

“Sam!” she shouted.

 

“I know!” Sam called. “I’m on it!”

 

Daniel joined Vala in the cockpit a moment later. “Cam’s providing another set of hands. I figured I’d just be in the way.”

 

“Sit down,” Vala ordered. “I’m going to do as much as I can from this end.”

 

She shut down the engines quickly, hoping that it would be enough. Swearing, she put her hands over her face and felt Daniel’s hands settle on her shoulders, massaging away the tension.

 

“How far away are we from Pegasus?”

 

“We’re nearly there,” Vala replied. “But we don’t have a very good map of this area of space. I have no idea if we’re anywhere close to a habitable planet that would give us the resources we need.”

 

Daniel pressed his lips to the top of her head. “We’ll keep a sharp eye out, then, and we’ll hope that Sam can fix the ship.”

 

He sat down again, but he reached out and kept his hand linked with hers.

 

“I hate what’s happened,” Vala said quietly. “But I’m not sorry for this.”

 

“When we get to Atlantis,” Daniel began, “we’re going to have to decide whether we need one set of quarters or two.”

 

“Oh, I think we can get by with one set of rooms,” Vala replied with a smile. “We’d just be taking up space otherwise.”

 

Daniel squeezed her hand. “Okay, then. We’re really doing this.”

 

“Unless you have a reason not to.”

 

“No, no reason whatsoever.”

 

They sat in silence, their fingers still intertwined, and Vala kept an eye on the readouts. She didn’t see any sign that the ship was going to explode, which was always a plus.

 

Sam appeared in the cockpit some time later, just as Vala was about to doze off. “Okay, I think I’ve got the leak under control. We can’t move very fast, but at least we can move.”

 

“Let’s just make best speed for the nearest planet with a gate,” Cam added from just behind her. “What kind of map do we have?”

 

“Not a very good one,” Vala replied. “But the information we do have suggests that there’s a planet with a gate about two days away. There’s no guarantee that there will be any resources on the planet, though, and no guarantee that the gate will work.”

 

Sam sighed. “There’s another problem. If we land, I can’t promise that we’ll be able to get back off the planet.”

 

“I thought we were doing okay,” Daniel objected. “We still have the capability to fly.”

 

“Yeah, through _space_ ,” Sam replied. “But we’ll need a lot more power to get off the surface and get out of the gravitational well. Maybe we have it, maybe we don’t. I just don’t know.”

 

“Do we have a choice?” Vala asked. “There doesn’t appear to be another planet with a gate close enough. And as much as I hate going hungry or thirsty, I’m going to hate watching everyone else die that much more.”

 

“I’m with Vala,” Daniel stated quietly. “I think we have to take our chances.”

 

Sam scrubbed her hands over her face. “Okay, well, I’ll do everything I can. If all else fails, we can put out a distress call to Atlantis. Even if the planet’s gate doesn’t work, we can call them. Maybe they can dial in with the supplies we’d need to fix it.”

 

“It’s a plan,” Cam said. “Vala, you’re at the end of your shift. I’ll take over.”

 

Daniel rose with her. “I think I’ll get some sleep.”

 

“Get something to eat, too,” Cam ordered, sliding into the seat that Vala had just vacated.

 

Vala followed Daniel back into the cargo area, and they ate a few bites. It was hardly satisfying, although she suspected that if they ate more at this point, they would be sick.

 

She laid down on one of the thin pallets on the floor and watched as Daniel hovered. “Get over here,” she commanded.

 

Daniel lay down behind her, tugging her close to him. “I just want to be sure that you’re okay with it. You set the pace, Vala.”

 

She put her hand over his and hummed quietly. “I trust you, Daniel. You forget that we’ve known each other for a long time.”

 

“Not so long,” Daniel objected.

 

“Longer than I’ve known just about anyone else,” Vala replied. “Relax. If you do something I don’t like, I won’t hesitate to let you know.”

 

It wasn’t that easy, of course. Vala knew that the scars from her time in the Goa’uld prison would be around for a long time to come. But she’d known and trusted Daniel, Cameron, and Teal’c before she’d been assaulted. She had Sam’s support and friendship, too.

 

And if she had the occasional nightmare, it was just part of the job.

 

“Okay,” Daniel said quietly, continuing to hold her. “Just let me know if you need space.”

 

“I’d rather you not give me any space,” Vala replied honestly, wanting to know that Daniel didn’t think less of her, wanting the reassurance.

 

Daniel kissed the back of Vala’s neck. “I can do that.”

 

Vala dozed restlessly, her dreams fractured and disturbing. She woke once with a start, feeling as though someone was watching her, only to find Sam shaking her awake.

 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “It’s your shift.”

 

“Okay,” Vala said readily, feeling Daniel stir behind her. “I’ll be right there.”

 

Her scalp itched, and she wanted a hot shower and a hot meal so badly she could taste it. She had a bite—quite literally—and made her way to the cockpit while Daniel slept on, leaving her pallet for Sam to sleep on.

 

Cam was piloting the ship when she reached the cockpit, and Vala took the spare seat. “How are we doing?”

 

“We’re making better time than we thought we would,” Cam replied. “How are you?”

 

Vala shrugged. “About the same as everyone else, I’d imagine.”

 

“Tired, hungry, dirty, and needing a break?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

Cam glanced over at her. “Vala, I’m sorry you’re stuck like with us, but I’m glad you’re on the team.”

 

She felt a real smile pull at her lips. “Thank you.”

 

“Hey, SG-1 is the best of the best. We apparently needed a thief.” Cam’s grin took the sting out of his assessment.

 

Besides, Vala didn’t mind being called a thief; stealing had saved her life more than once.

 

Silence reigned after that, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Over the last few weeks, Vala had been forced to get very comfortable with her teammates, and she thought they had all learned how to be content with the quiet.

 

Cam left at the end of his shift, and Vala moved into the pilot’s seat. Sam appeared a few minutes later and joined her. “Hey. Anything happening?”

 

Vala shrugged. “Nothing, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing at this point.”

 

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you and me both.”

 

They didn’t speak much. There wasn’t much to say, which was one of the reasons that Vala felt so listless.

 

Shift changed again, and Vala changed places with Sam and went to wake up Daniel. She lay down next to Cam, who appeared to be deeply asleep. The shifts changed twice more, and Vala slept as often as possible, wanting to escape hunger and thirst. Three days after the latest coolant leak, Vala woke with her heart thundering in her chest.

 

“What—”

 

Daniel was leaning over her. “Vala, hey. We’ve reached the closest planet with a gate. Sam is going to try landing, but she wants everybody to brace themselves.”

 

“I’m bracing,” Vala replied, sitting up and shifting over to the wall.

 

Cam was already on his feet. “I’ll help Sam. Daniel, you stay here.”

 

Daniel hesitated but eventually nodded his agreement. He took a seat next to Vala, his back pushed against the bulkhead.

 

“What does the planet look like?” Vala asked.

 

Daniel shrugged. “We’re not sure yet. There was definitely some desert, and maybe some rainforests, but we don’t know where the gate is yet.”

 

Vala grimaced. “How are we going to find it?”

 

“Sam has a plan for that.”

 

“Doesn’t she usually?”

 

Daniel grinned. “She does. I guess we’ll just have to cross our fingers.”

 

Vala had heard the expression before, and she responded by holding up a hand and doing just that.

 

The ship began to buck underneath them, and they both spread their arms, staying flush against the bulkhead, their feet braced against the deck.

 

“We’re in for a bumpy ride!” Cam shouted from the cockpit. “Hang on!”

 

Vala exchanged a look with Daniel, and then closed her eyes.

 

Re-entry into the atmosphere was often turbulent, but this landing was worse than any other Vala had experienced.

 

She held on for dear life until the ship shuddered to a halt, and she heard Sam call out, “Okay, we’re good! We’re in one piece!”

 

“Do we know where the gate is?” Daniel asked.

 

“Should be just outside,” Cam responded. “The atmosphere is breathable, but it’s hot out there, so be ready for it.”

 

The cargo bay doors opened, and Vala felt the blast of heat. It felt like opening the door of an oven.

 

She and Daniel stepped outside, blinking under the bright, hot sun, the air gritty with blowing sand. “I don’t know that we’re going to find many resources here,” Daniel murmured.

 

“Then I guess we’d better get off this planet as soon as we can,” Vala replied. “Because we’re in serious trouble if we don’t.”

 

~~~~~

 

Days of darkness and silence had given way to bright, relentless lights and random alarms. Every time Jack began to relax enough to maybe get some sleep, a loud alarm sounded, and he was startled fully awake, his heart racing.

 

Although he had no idea how much time had passed, it felt like months: months of complete darkness, and months of blinding light and blaring sound. Just when Jack had begun to think that the light and sound would go on forever, the door of his cell swung open to admit a couple of big guys in suits.

 

Jack was weak from lack of sleep and decent food, and he offered little resistance as they dragged him out. The beating they gave him was expected, even comforting in a way. Jack could deal with this kind of torture; he had been beaten before. He’d been starved before.

 

What he feared most was that they would break down his will through lack of sleep, and food, and human contact, until he begged to tell everything he knew.

 

Jack’s only comfort was that he’d told the SGC teams to move on as soon as they could, so any intel he gave would be old news.

 

But there was no way he was giving up any information before he had to.

 

The men dumped Jack back in his cell, where the bright lights and blaring alarms continued. Jack curled up around his broken ribs, spitting out blood, and closed his eyes. He remembered an afternoon on the dock at his cabin with Teal’c, throwing his line in the water and trying to explain the joys of fishing—without catching any fish.

 

Teal’c never had understood, but then no one on his team had.

 

Well, maybe Sam at the end, but Jack suspected that her enthusiasm had more to do with spending time with him and getting a tan.

 

Jack was on the receiving end of two more beatings. The third resulted in a punctured lung and being dumped in a sarcophagus.

 

When he woke up again, he was back in his cell, and it was dark again. Jack was grateful for the respite, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. He faced a never-ending cycle of different kinds of torture until he was killed, or was allowed to die from his injuries.

 

Another cycle of darkness and silence followed, and another cycle of bright lights and blaring sound. They took him out for another torture session, although this time they used fire and knives, of which Jack was not a fan.

 

In between sessions, Jack was fed thin gruel, which he ate because there was no other choice. There was a rhythm to it—darkness and light, silence and sound, hunger and satisfaction.

 

He had no idea how long he’d been in the cell, or how long they’d been trying to get information out of him. He just knew that it was his duty to resist for as long as he could, to find a place in his mind that was safe from his interrogators.

 

Jack kept fighting because he knew nothing else.

 

He fought the soldiers when they came for him again, but they overpowered him easily, weakened as he was.

 

This beating was worse than the ones that came before, but they returned Jack to his cell without learning anything.

 

Jack curled up in a corner of his cell, feeling as though he didn’t have a lot of time before he gave up the ghost.

 

He knew how to end his own life, even with the slim resources left to him, but he wasn’t quite ready to go there yet.

 

Jack squeezed his eyes shut against the bright lights. He hated the lights more than the darkness at this point. At least he could get some sleep when his cell was dark.

 

When the door slid open, Jack curled up even tighter, keeping his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 

“General O’Neill, we must hurry.”

 

Jack recognized Teal’c’s voice, but he’d been expected the hallucinations to start, so he stayed right where he was. “You’re a figment of my imagination; go away.”

 

“I am not. O’Neill, can you walk?” The hand on Jack’s arm was large, warm, and gentle, and Jack cracked a swollen eye to peer at him. “We must hurry.”

 

“T?” Jack croaked. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I believe you would call us the cavalry. Can you walk?” Teal’c asked urgently.

 

Jack grunted. “I don’t know. Help me up.”

 

Teal’c pulled Jack to his feet, but Jack’s knees buckled almost immediately. Teal’c put his arm around Jack’s waist, holding him in place.

 

“Is the rest of the team with you?” Jack asked.

 

“We went our separate ways. I would not leave my people.”

 

“Should have known,” Jack grunted. “Why are you here, then?”

 

“I could not leave my friend in enemy hands,” Teal’c replied.

 

Jack blinked as they approached a young man who was clearly acting as a lookout. Jack’s vision wasn’t entirely clear, but he thought he recognized his clone. “Teal’c? What’s _he_ doing here?”

 

“I’m saving your ass,” the clone replied. “Or maybe I should say saving my own ass.”

 

Jack grunted. He hated it when a double popped up, whether it was a clone or a robot. “Where’d you find him?”

 

“That’s a story for another time,” Teal’c replied. “Jon?”

 

“We’re in the clear,” the clone said.

 

“Jon?” Jack croaked.

 

Jon glared at him. “Well, I had to be called something, and ‘Jack’ was confusing. So, yeah, I’m Jon.”

 

“You got a ship, T?” Jack asked. “Because I don’t think I’m up for a long walk.”

 

“I always come prepared,” Teal’c intoned. “But we must hurry.”

 

Teal’c half-carried, half-dragged Jack down several long corridors. Jack’s vision kept graying out from the pain, but he noticed that the two times they ran into resistance, Jon moved with Jack’s own skills, and with the speed and strength of youth.

 

He’d be about eighteen now, Jack thought. They hadn’t kept in touch, so Jack had no idea what had happened to him in the last couple of years, or why he’d gone along with this little adventure.

 

They met more resistance as they neared the exit, and Teal’c gripped Jack tighter with one hand while firing a zat with the other.

 

“Go!” Jon shouted. “I’ll cover your six. Get the old man on board.”

 

Teal’c didn’t argue, and Jack was in far too much pain to protest the appellation. Teal’c manhandled Jack out of the doors, and across what looked like a parade ground on a military base. Halfway across, an _al’kesh_ appeared before them, the ship shimmering as it dropped the cloak.

 

Jon ran on board behind them a moment later, firing his zat behind him. “Go, go, go!”

 

The engines whined to life under Jack’s feet, and Teal’c lowered Jack gently to the deck of the cargo bay.

 

“Go help Bra’tac,” Jon said. “Cassie and I will take care of O’Neill.”

 

“Cassie?” Jack called.

 

“I’m right here, Jack,” Cassie said, putting a hand on his forehead. “You look like shit.”

 

“Brace yourselves!” Jack recognized Master Bra’tac’s voice. “We’re going to have to outmaneuver the security forces.”

 

“Jon, let’s get him stretched out,” Cassie said. “We’ll brace him on either side. Hang tight, Jack.”

 

Jack still wasn’t sure this was real. It might be a hallucination. He didn’t think there was a better explanation for what he was seeing.

 

Jack groaned as they helped him stretch out, then they sat on either side, anchoring him in place as the ship took off and maneuvered through Earth’s atmosphere. Eventually, the flight path evened out, and Jack felt Cassie and Jon relax on either side of him.

 

“Jon, quick, grab the first aid kit. We’ll do what we can right now,” Cassie ordered.

 

“You remind me of your mom,” Jack rasped out. “She used to order everyone around in just that tone of voice.”

 

Cassie blinked rapidly, her smile tremulous but real. “Thank you. But Jack? It might be better if you passed out now. This is going to hurt like hell.”

 

“Yeah, I figured. I’ll do my best,” Jack replied, wishing it were that easy, and he could just pass out.

 

And then Cassie started to run her hands over his ribs, and the resulting pain sent him under.

 

~~~~~

 

“Okay, I have good news and bad news,” Sam announced as she reentered the ship, pausing to shake the sand out of her clothing.

 

Cam glanced at Jackson, who pulled a face. “Let’s have the bad news first,” Cam said.

 

“The bad news is that the DHD isn’t working, probably because it hasn’t been used in a hundred years and there’s a bunch of sand and dust gumming up the works,” Sam replied.

 

Vala sighed. “And the good news?”

 

“Once I get everything cleaned off, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t work,” Sam replied, flopping down on the floor.

 

“How long is that going to take?” Cam asked.

 

Sam shrugged. “Normally, a couple of days, but we’re short on food, water, and sleep. It’s going to take me longer than it would if I were in peak condition.”

 

“Vala? Can you help her?” Cam asked.

 

“I can do whatever you like to get us off this rock,” Vala replied, jumping to her feet. “Just point me in the right direction.”

 

“We need food and water, if you can find it,” Sam pointed out. “We should forage if possible.”

 

“Jackson and I will go,” Cam said. “You two see what you can do to fix the DHD. That’s our only chance to get off the planet right now.”

 

The conditions weren’t ideal to go hunting. He and Jackson were both sleep-deprived and weak from more than a week of short rations. They weren’t at death’s door, but they weren’t at their best either.

 

Still, Sam was right; they needed food and water. He and Jackson clipped on their weapons—zats and stunners—and checked their knives. They put on their sunglasses, and walked out into the desert wind.

 

“How are we supposed to find food in this?” Jackson asked as they headed out into the desert. “For that matter, how are we supposed to figure out where the ship is once we get out of shouting distance?”

 

“That’s what a compass is for, Jackson,” Cam replied, pulling out his. “We’re going to be fine.”

 

“Now you _know_ something is going to go wrong,” Jackson shot back. “You’ve just jinxed us.”

 

Cam sighed. “There’s no such thing as a jinx.”

 

“I know better,” Jackson replied. “Trust me, something is going to go wrong now.”

 

“Let’s just focus on finding something to eat, and finding water.”

 

“Where? There’s nothing but sand as far as the eye can see.”

 

“Where’s your positive attitude?” Cam asked.

 

“I think I left it back in Cheyenne Mountain,” Jackson replied dryly.

 

Cam shrugged. “We’ll do our best. If we can’t find anything, at least we’ll know we’ve tried.”

 

“You actually believe that, don’t you?”

 

“My eternal optimism is a personality flaw,” Cam admitted.

 

The earth under their feet was hard and cracked, the gusting wind throwing up dust devils. Cam took some comfort in the fact that there was a little scrub growing. Scrub meant that they might find animal life, insects, maybe even cactus or other succulents, so there was at least a chance they’d find water.

 

Cam had taken a couple of courses on how to survive in desert terrain—just like he’d learned a few things about surviving in the forest, or in the mountains, or if he ejected over the ocean.

 

“We’ll probably want to see if we can find some water, or some better scrub,” Cam said. “And then we’re going to have to wait for something to show its head.”

 

“We’ve got succulents,” Cam said, pulling out his knife and beginning to hack at one of the arms. “There’s not a lot of liquid in here, but it’s better than nothing.”

 

“How are you going to carry that?” Jackson asked.

 

Cam grimaced. “Very carefully.” He unbuckled the strap that held his knife sheath and looped it around the cut end and pulled it tight. “Okay, let’s find some food and then head back to the ship.”

 

“I can see burrows,” Jackson said, pointing.

 

“Rodents,” Cam murmured. “We’ll have to get a few to make it worth our while.”

 

After another fifteen minutes of serious searching, they found a spot with a high concentration of holes, and they hunkered down several yards apart. Cam held his zat in a loose grip, slipping into that watchful state that took in the scenery without focusing too hard on any one particular thing.

 

He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, and Cam fired without consciously aiming. Blue light enveloped the creature, which looked a bit like a meerkat, and Cam shot it again for a clean kill.

 

Cam snagged the body without a word and settled back onto his haunches. Daniel shot the next one, and Cam began to think that they might have a chance at a decent meal that night, even if the cactus wouldn’t give them much in the way of water.

 

They managed to shoot three more, and then, just as Cam was about to kill his third animal, he felt a sting in his right arm. The pain was unexpected, and he let out an involuntary yelp, sending his quarry scurrying back into its burrow.

 

“Cam?” Jackson called. “You okay?”

 

“Something bit me,” Cam admitted. He looked around, seeing something vaguely scorpion-like digging down into the ground out of sight. “I don’t know what it was.”

 

“Show me,” Jackson ordered.

 

Cam found himself obeying. He winced when he saw the red, raised welt on his right forearm, and he could tell that it was already swelling.

 

“We need to get back to the ship,” Jackson insisted. “We’ve got enough meat for tonight, and I’m not going to carry you.”

 

“I’m fine,” Cam insisted.

 

Jackson glared at him. “I spent some time in desert climates, too, you know. You might feel okay right now, but chances are you’re going to be sicker than a dog pretty soon. So just fucking listen to me, and don’t be such a fucking hero, Cam.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Cam replied, holding up his hands in surrender at Jackson’s fierce tone. “You got it. We’ll go back to the ship.”

 

“No way am I losing you,” Jackson muttered. “The women would kill me.”

 

Cam grunted as Jackson heaved him up to his feet. His arm was throbbing in time to the beat of his heart, and he was already beginning to feel dizzy.

 

“Daniel, I think this is going to get bad,” Cam said quietly.

 

Jackson looked at him. “Yeah. I told you so.”

 

“I know you did.”

 

“Are you going to make it back?” Jackson asked.

 

Cam managed a tight smile. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”


	10. Taking Risks

_“I know what it’s like to see your world fall, to lose everything and begin again from the ashes, and there is, perhaps, nothing more difficult. To live on Atlantis is to accept danger, but those from Earth came here with the knowledge that they could always go back home. I knew it would take time for most of the members of the expedition to accept that Atlantis was home, but I wasn’t surprised that John appeared to accept it almost immediately. John had always seemed to view Atlantis as home, and his team as his family.”_

 

~Interview with Teyla Emmagan

 

“The Ebrus have called,” Dr. Weir said, her outward calm apparently unshakeable. “The treatment that Dr. Beckett advised has been highly successful, and they’re ready to allow us to attempt entry into the sacred temple.”

 

Evan glanced at Sheppard, who remained stone-faced and silent. “Can’t we wait another week?”

 

Teyla, Ronon, _and_ McKay were going to kick his ass if he let Sheppard attempt retrieval of the ZPM without them around. No way was he going along with this plan without a protest.

 

“We don’t know whether the Ebrus will change their minds,” Sheppard replied, without a flicker of expression. Evan couldn’t help but compare _this_ Sheppard with the man who had come back from a week on the mainland smiling and joking with everyone, relaxed and at ease in his own skin. “They’ve issued the invitation. We go now.”

 

Evan winced. “Okay, that’s great. It’s just—shouldn’t we recall your team, Colonel?”

 

To Evan’s relief, Sheppard shot him an amused smile. “Worried about what they’ll do to you when they find out I went alone?”

 

“Well, they probably won’t kill _you_ , sir,” Evan pointed out.

 

Dr. Weir laughed. “I’ll make it clear that this was on my order,” she assured him.

 

Evan cleared his throat, still unused to questioning the orders of superior officers. “That’s just the thing. Should we both go? If something happens…”

 

He let the thought hang and watched as Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard had a whole conversation with their eyes. “If something happens, we’ll need a witness,” Sheppard finally said. “And other than my team, there’s no one else I trust more.”

 

“I was the one to suggest it, Major,” Dr. Weir assured him. “There’s no reason to believe that the Ebrus are setting a trap. Colonel Sheppard needs someone who will watch his back. I don’t believe that you’ll be in danger.”

 

“And _your_ team, sir?” Evan pressed, hardly believing his daring. But he _knew_ how close Sheppard’s team was. He knew what they would say if they were here.

 

“Teyla wanted to spend two full weeks with her people,” Sheppard replied without batting an eyelash. “And Ronon is on the mainland to provide some much-needed muscle. Rodney was never in favor of this mission.”

 

That didn’t make a bit of difference to Evan, but he didn’t see another option. Even if Evan refused to go—which would amount to a serious breach of conduct—Sheppard would undertake the mission anyway.

 

And if there was anyone on Atlantis just as interested in Sheppard’s well being as his team, it was Evan. Evan had absolutely _no_ desire to be in charge right now.

 

Field promotions were all well and good, but Evan didn’t want one. He wanted to maintain the status quo as long as possible, and that meant Sheppard sticking around.

 

And maybe that was his answer, Evan thought. He would accompany Sheppard to make sure his commanding officer made it back to Atlantis. He didn’t want to let Sheppard attempt this ritual alone—Evan wanted to keep an eye on the proceedings.

 

“I’m in,” Evan said quietly. “I just wanted to be sure I wouldn’t get my ass kicked when your team comes back.”

 

Both Sheppard and Dr. Weir smiled at that. “I promise I’ll protect you,” Sheppard said. “But I think we need to go now.”

 

“Then we go,” Evan replied, giving his tacit support.

 

Dr. Weir smiled approvingly. “I wouldn’t push it, but we need the ZPM. We still have the Wraith to worry about. We’ve had a respite the last few weeks, but we can’t count on it lasting forever.”

 

Dr. Weir was right; the opportunity to get their hands on a ZPM was too good to pass up, and no one wanted to risk the Ebrus changing their minds. And Evan’s gene was nearly as strong as Sheppard’s; if the colonel was unsuccessful, Evan could make the attempt.

 

“We leave in two hours,” Sheppard said. “Thanks, Lorne.”

 

Sheppard immediately headed out of Dr. Weir’s office. Evan rose to follow but was called back by Dr. Weir’s voice. “I wanted to talk to you,” she began. “Have a seat, Major.”

 

Evan returned to his seat, bracing himself for what Dr. Weir might say.

 

“I’m trusting you to pull Colonel Sheppard out if things go too far,” Dr. Weir said quietly. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve agreed not to wait until the rest of his team returns.”

 

Evan frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

 

“Rodney has been against this plan from the beginning,” Dr. Weir began. “He might not wait to see if John would be successful. And, in all honesty, I’m not sure what Teyla and Ronon would do if John insisted on going forward, and Rodney insisted on pulling back. I want someone there who knows the difference between necessary and unnecessary risks.”

 

Evan was momentarily flattered that Dr. Weir would view _him_ as the voice of reason, especially since Evan doesn’t necessarily see himself that way, but he quickly pushed that aside. “There isn’t a person on this base who is completely objective where Colonel Sheppard is concerned,” Evan finally said. “He’s a hero, and Atlantis responds to him like it doesn’t for anyone else.”

 

“Which is why I want you along for the ride,” Dr. Weir replied firmly. “If you can, bring him back in one piece.” She took a deep breath. “And if it’s necessary, you have my permission to incapacitate him and bring him back here if there doesn’t appear to be another option.”

 

Evan winced, because he couldn’t imagine a scenario where that turned out well in the long run. If Evan had to disable Sheppard and drag him back to Atlantis, he would, but Evan knew that such a choice would harm their working relationship.

 

On the other hand, if Sheppard died on Evan’s watch, and _he_ became military commander, Evan couldn’t imagine a situation where Dr. Weir didn’t resent the hell out of him for surviving.

 

“This puts me in a difficult spot, ma’am,” Evan felt compelled to point out.

 

Dr. Weir nodded. “I know, and I’m sorry for that, but I don’t have another choice.”

 

And that was the hell of it, Evan thought. There _wasn’t_ another choice. It came down to him making the right call when a choice presented itself. Evan would go, and he’d pray to every god he’d ever heard of that he brought Sheppard back in one piece, because if he didn’t there’s be all kinds of hell to pay.

 

“I’ll do it,” Evan replied.

 

Dr. Weir cleared her throat. “I thought I’d let you know that I’ve agreed to allow Laro Redekan to visit Atlantis for a few weeks. He should be coming back on the next exchange.”

 

Evan could recognize a bribe when one was offered, but he wasn’t going to complain. He’d been thinking about Laro a lot, and wondering if the brief connection they’d made would stand up to further contact.

 

“It will be a pleasure to see him again,” Evan said neutrally.

 

Dr. Weir’s lips twitched. “Spoken like a diplomat. I trust you’ll use those skills when you meet with the Ebrus.”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

“That’s all anyone can ask, Major.”

 

Evan walked through the gate shoulder-to-shoulder with Sheppard, with Stackhouse and another Marine bringing up the rear. Evan knew Stackhouse would keep his head, but he knew Sergeant Becky Robbins only by reputation—although she had a good one.

 

“So, do we know what’s going to happen?” Robbins asked cheerfully.

 

“No idea,” Sheppard replied. “With any luck, we’ll be going home with a ZPM, though.”

 

Evan saw the looks that Robbins and Stackhouse exchanged. “Since when have we had good luck?” Stackhouse muttered.

 

Sheppard chose to ignore that comment, even though Evan knew he’d heard it.

 

The green fields between the gate and the village were dotted with the sheep-like animals the Ebrus bred for its fleece. Brista came to greet them with her hands outstretched. “Colonel Sheppard. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

 

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Sheppard assured her. “I just had another obligation to meet.”

 

Brista nodded. “I suppose you’ll want to get started immediately. The ritual will take some time.”

 

“How long do you think?” John asked. “I’ll need to let our leader know if we’re going to be too late.”

 

“You must fast for at least one full day,” Brista said.

 

John glanced at Stackhouse. “Sergeant, head back to the gate and radio Dr. Weir. Let her know that this is going to take at least twice as long as we thought and not to worry.”

 

Stackhouse didn’t look happy about the order, but he nodded and jogged off towards the gate.

 

“You may have one person stand as witness for you, Colonel Sheppard,” Brista said as they walked into the center of the village.

 

“That would be Lorne,” Sheppard replied without pause.

 

Evan still thought that Sheppard’s team should be here, but they were doing this; they were here now, and this mission was about safeguarding Atlantis. Evan could only hope that he’d be able to safeguard Sheppard as well.

 

~~~~~

 

John knew why Lorne was uncomfortable with this idea; he was a little worried, too. Teyla was sure to beat John black and blue, Ronon would run him into the ground, and Rodney would probably make sure he had no hot water for a month.

 

The fact that he could only have one witness made John think that he’d made the right call; he had no idea how he would have chosen among his teammates. He only had one second in command, though, and Lorne would keep a cool head and watch John’s back.

 

Brista led them to what was nothing more than a low, sod shanty. “Colonel Sheppard,” she began. “Your witness must also participate in the ritual.”

 

John glanced at Lorne, who shrugged. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir,” he said.

 

Knowing that Elizabeth had probably given Lorne orders to save John from himself if necessary, John nodded. “What do we do?”

 

“You must enter this place barefoot and weaponless, and you must leave the same way,” Brista began, her voice dropping into a sing-song rhythm that suggested this was an old ritual, passed down in oral form. “You must not eat anything, nor may you drink anything but water until you have returned from the temple. Your witness may carry food and other supplies, but if you require them, your heart is not pure. You are to walk on your own feet to enter the temple. You are to go with a clean heart and a clean mind, taking no rest between now and then. If the Ancestors bless you, you will gain your heart’s desire.”

 

The ritual was far simpler than some John had witnessed. There weren’t any weird sex acts, or anything that would cause lasting damage. If something went seriously wrong, Lorne would be there. It could be worse.

 

“That’s acceptable,” John began, but Brista held up a hand, cutting off the rest of what he’d begun to say.

 

“And you must drink from the Cup of Understanding.”

 

John didn’t like the sound of that. “And that is?”

 

“Nothing that will harm you,” Brista immediately assured him. “Every Ebrus drinks from the Cup on the day they come of age.”

 

He exchanged a look with Lorne, who shrugged unhappily. “Okay,” John said, bracing himself. “I’ll do it.”

 

At Brista’s direction, John removed his weapons, tac vest, BDU shirt, boots, and socks. Even though he retained his t-shirt and pants, he still felt curiously naked. On the other side of the doorway, Lorne did the same, handing their things off to Robbins, who didn’t look terribly happy about the situation.

 

He couldn’t quite get over the proprietary air his subordinates had adopted toward him. John couldn’t remember a single superior officer he’d felt that way about, but that probably said a lot more about his issues with authority—as Dr. Heightmeyer had pointed out on occasion—than about the officers under whom he’d served.

 

A young woman wearing a long, gray gown brought a pewter goblet and placed it in Brista’s hands with a little bow. Brista inclined her head, and then she turned and handed the goblet to John, saying, “May your pure heart guide you, Colonel Sheppard.”

 

The pewter felt cold under John’s hands, and he took a sip of the liquid, grimacing.

 

“Drink it all,” Brista urged.

 

John hesitated, but he lifted the cup to his lips, drinking deeply and quickly, getting it all down in a few gulps.

 

Brista motioned him to go inside the hut, which he did by crouching low and crawling inside. The interior was hot—stifling and humid. His t-shirt was almost immediately stuck to his back, and John felt the sweat bead up on his forehead. John could hear Lorne and Brista’s voices outside. Focusing on their words, John caught snatches of conversation.

 

Brista told Lorne that she needed to make sure John drank plenty of water, that if he didn’t, dehydration was a real possibility. She said that John’s life was in Lorne’s hands.

 

John could picture the expression on Lorne’s face; he suspected that Lorne wasn’t thrilled with the idea.

 

Lorne crawled into the hut and sat down across from John with his legs crossed. “You know this is a dumbass move, sir.”

 

“I know,” John agreed. “But I don’t see that we have a choice.”

 

“Your team should be here with you,” Lorne replied.

 

John shook his head. “You heard the woman, Lorne. One witness. Who was I supposed to pick?”

 

Lorne winced. “I don’t know.”

 

“So, it’s better we do it this way.” John was beginning to feel lightheaded. “And I trust you, Lorne. You’ll watch my back.”

 

“I’d better,” Lorne replied. “Dr. Weir’s going to skin me alive otherwise.”

 

John felt his eyesight go hazy and unfocused. The interior of the shanty, lit only by flickering lamps in each corner, blurred and grew indistinct. John lost track of time, mesmerized by the shadows cast on the walls. He wished he could strip out of his t-shirt and pants, but he remained where he was, motionless and quiet.

 

There was a place inside John that was open and raw, something he’d never known how to deal with. He thought it had been empty since his mother’s death. No one else had ever filled it, no matter how hard he’d tried.

 

Nancy had been a poor attempt, but John had never been able to share _enough_ of himself. His team had represented the first people in a long time that he’d let in.

 

And yet, he had Lorne sitting across from him right now. John had no idea why he hadn’t waited for his team.

 

“Here, drink this,” Lorne said, putting a dipper of water to John’s lips. “You heard Brista. You can’t afford to get dehydrated.”

 

John drank, grateful for the cool liquid. He wasn’t sure he would have thought about it otherwise.

 

“You feeling okay, sir?” Lorne asked.

 

“Just a little dizzy,” John replied honestly. “I’ve had worse.”

 

In truth, John had experienced a worse reaction the first time he’d smoked marijuana back in high school, which had resulted in a paranoid response. He’d freaked out, to put it plainly, and John hadn’t taken drugs since then.

 

At least, he hadn’t until now, when he’d drunk from the Cup of Understanding—capital letters understood.

 

John let his mind drift, memories coming unbidden to the front of his mind. He remembered the first days after his mother had died, the funeral, the way his father had remained stiff and apart.

 

Lorne pressed the dipper of cool water against his lips again, and John drank. “It’s not that I don’t like women,” John said out loud. “It’s just that I prefer men.”

 

“I know what you mean, sir,” Lorne replied, and pressed the dipper to John’s lips again. “You need to keep drinking water.”

 

“I am,” John said peevishly. “I’m drinking plenty.”

 

“Just stay with me,” Lorne replied.

 

“I’m with you,” John said. He wasn’t completely sure of that; he kept getting lost in his memories. His childhood had been both privileged and less than ideal. A dying mother, an absentee father, and several boarding schools; they made up John’s past.

 

He felt Lorne’s hand on his arm. “Whatever you say, it stays in this room, Sheppard,” Lorne said quietly. John wondered how Lorne knew he wanted to speak, but he wasn’t willing to ask that question. “Just say whatever you have to,” Lorne urged.

 

“I’m in love with McKay,” John blurted out, hardly able to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

 

Lorne remained impressively stoic. “How does McKay feel about that?”

 

“He wanted to become fuck-buddies,” John replied, and he was suddenly grateful that no one from his team was present. Oddly enough, it was easier to tell Lorne these things.

 

Lorne’s smirk wavered in the flickering light of the hut. “And you wouldn’t go there.”

 

“I couldn’t,” John admitted. “You can’t be fuck-buddies with someone you already love.”

 

“True enough,” Lorne replied.

 

John felt the press of the dipper against his lips again. “I haven’t spoken to my dad since I joined the Air Force.”

 

“Straight out of high school?” Lorne asked.

 

John shook his head. “No, I went ROTC at Stanford. You?”

 

“Academy,” Lorne admitted. “My parents were pretty proud of me. Yours weren’t?”

 

“My mom might have been,” John said slowly. “She died when I was still a kid. My dad expected me to join him in the family business, but all I wanted to do was fly.”

 

“Same here,” Lorne replied. “The only reason I agreed to join the SGC was because going to alien worlds was slightly cooler than flying jets.”

 

John blinked owlishly. “There’s nothing like going through the wormhole.”

 

“No, there isn’t.”

 

Time flowed strangely, stretching out warm and pliant like taffy. Sometimes Lorne seemed to respond to the thoughts in his head, only for John to realize that he’d spoken out loud. Sometimes John thought he’d spoken, but Lorne remained silent.

 

Lorne kept pressing him to drink, and at some point, John asked, “You’re drinking plenty of water, right? I wouldn’t want you to pass out.”

 

“Then who would look out for you?” Lorne asked. “I’m good, sir. I wasn’t the one who drank from the Cup of Understanding.”

 

“More like the Cup of Remembering,” John muttered. “My mom died of cancer, but she drank too much before that. I don’t think she was very happy with my dad.”

 

“Yeah?” Lorne’s tone was neutral.

 

John peered at him. “I’m telling you too damn much.”

 

“It’s not going to leave this room, sir,” Lorne assured him—again, John thought. Lorne had said the same thing to him earlier.

 

John frowned. “I think you can drop the sir, Lorne. At least while I’m high.”

 

Lorne’s teeth flash in a bright, infectious grin. “Yes, sir.”

 

“I like the fact that you’re a smartass,” John confessed.

 

“I haven’t had a lot of commanding officers who have,” Lorne replied.

 

“Lucky me.” He paused. “But we’re in Atlantis, aren’t we?” John asked. “Or, we were. That makes us lucky.”

 

“I guess it does.”

 

John fell silent, watching the honey-gold light flicker across Lorne’s face. He had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like days—or maybe just minutes—when Brista stuck her head inside the hut. “The twenty-four hours are up, Colonel Sheppard. It’s time for your journey.”

 

“The temple,” John murmured, remembering. “I’m supposed to walk.”

 

“Major Lorne may accompany you,” Brista reminded him.

 

“You okay with that, Lorne?”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Lorne replied. “Let’s get on the road, huh?”

 

John stumbled out of the hut, feeling light-headed. The world spun around him briefly, and then it settled. “Which way?” John asked Brista.

 

“That way,” she replied, pointing.

 

John could just make out a path, barely visible in the undergrowth, and he stumbled in that direction.

 

“Hold on a second,” Lorne called out. “Sheppard, give me a minute.”

 

John slowed, but he didn’t stop. He felt a single-minded purpose fueling him. He couldn’t stop. He had a job to do.

 

The rapid beat of footsteps sounded behind him, but John couldn’t spare the energy to turn around. “Good thing you’ve got me to watch your back,” Lorne muttered from behind him. “No offense, Sheppard, but you’re completely out of it.”

 

John shook his head. “My heart is pure.”

 

“Yeah, it’s pure all right,” Lorne replied.

 

John followed the faint trail without difficulty. He was distantly aware of a stinging sensation in his right foot, and some small part of his brain knew that it was the result of going barefoot through brush and briar.

 

The pain didn’t really register, though. John was too focused on following the path, finding the temple, finding the ZPM. He could protect Atlantis this way; he could prevent the Wraith from getting the best of them.

 

He could hear Lorne stomping down the path behind him, and John felt grateful for him. Lorne would watch his back.

 

His team would have watched his back, too, but John didn’t know how he could have chosen one out of the three. Rodney knew technology, and Teyla and Ronon were badass motherfuckers, and John didn’t know which one he would have chosen to sit with him, or to follow him up this mountain.

 

Or maybe it was a hill. John wasn’t sure.

 

John liked the idea of having someone else, someone who wasn’t on his team, who would look out for him. He liked the idea that he had someone else, outside of his team, who would take care of him.

 

John hadn’t experienced that level of loyalty since Afghanistan.

 

He crested a ridge, and the temple rose out of the next hillside. John felt a burst of energy, and he stumbled down the hill, through the valley, and then up the next hill.

 

The mouth of the temple opened before him, and John stopped, looking up at the archway that rose above his head. “This is nuts.”

 

“Maybe so,” Lorne said. “You want me to go in with you?”

 

“No.” John squared his shoulders. “Wait out here.”

 

He was about five feet inside the entrance when the walls began to light up around him. John grinned at the feeling of welcome.

 

“Yeah, baby, I’m home,” he murmured. “Show me what you’re made of.”

 

The temple was gorgeous—smooth stone floor and marble walls. John suspected that this wasn’t a temple at all, although he couldn’t blame the Ebrus for thinking of it that way. But if it was a temple, it was a paean to science and rational thought.

 

John half-expected the chair that he found at the back of the long room, and he crouched down before it, caressing the edge of the seat. “Hey,” he crooned. “I’m here now. Give up your secrets.”

 

The chair lit up under John’s fingers, and a ZPM rose up out of the floor at his invitation. “Yeah, there you are,” John murmured. “There you are. We’ve got plans for you.”

 

He disconnected the ZPM easily, and cradled it against his chest. John found Lorne waiting for him at the entrance, a second pair of boots hanging from his hand. “How are your feet?” Lorne asked. “Any injuries?”

 

“I’m not sure,” John confessed. “Maybe.”

 

“Sit down,” Lorne ordered, and handed him a power bar. “And eat this while I check you out.”

 

John munched as Lorne examined his feet, probing at a couple of tender spots with a sympathetic wince. “You’re going to need Dr. Beckett to look at these, and maybe remove debris,” Lorne said. “I can’t do much right now.”

 

“That’s okay,” John assured him between bites. “My feet don’t hurt.”

 

“They don’t _now_ ,” Lorne shot back. “Okay, let’s head back. We’ve got a long trek ahead of us. Let me have the ZPM. I’ll put it in my pack.”

 

John handed the ZPM over reluctantly, and watched as Lorne carefully tucked it away. He let Lorne take the lead, although John ran out of juice halfway down the next hill. Lorne didn’t say anything; he just slung John’s arm over his shoulders and half-supported, half-carried him the rest of the way back to the village.

 

John could vaguely hear Lorne assure Brista that he was fine, but that they needed to get back to Atlantis, and that they would keep her in the loop.

 

John was concentrating on not passing out, but he managed a careful wave, and a muttered assurance. Robbins and Stackhouse fell into formation around them, and John waved at them, too.

 

“We need to get him checked out,” Lorne explained to Brista. “He’s our leader.”

 

John wanted to point out that he was only the military leader, but he didn’t think that Brista would appreciate the distinction. Stackhouse provided additional support on John’s left side, the one Lorne wasn’t occupying.

 

Brista expressed her gratitude for their alliance and their hope that John would find clarity based on what he’d experienced. John didn’t bother saying that he had. He was clear that he didn’t want to drink from the Cup of Understanding again.

 

Stackhouse and Lorne half-carried John all the way to the gate, and Robbins dialed Atlantis. John began to be a little clearer on what had happened, and what he’d said. “Lorne—”

 

“It stays in the room,” Lorne murmured.

 

John took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Then let’s go home.”

 

And they went.

 

~~~~~

 

“You know, I expected Sheppard to try a stunt like this, but I thought you’d pull him back!” Rodney said, stalking into her office, his cheeks pink with anger and sunburn. “You shouldn’t have let him go!”

 

Elizabeth had waited as long as she could before recalling Rodney to Atlantis to oversee installation of the ZPM. She had wanted to be certain that John would make a full recovery, hoping that would blunt the edge of Rodney’s anger. And, while John was still unconscious, Carson had assured Elizabeth that John wasn’t in any danger.

 

Of course, given Lorne’s brief report, he and John had been awake for over 48 hours straight. It was no wonder they had both been sleeping for the last 20.

 

“Major Lorne was with him the entire time,” Elizabeth replied evenly. “And the Ebrus had extended the invitation. If we had waited, they might have changed their minds.”

 

Rodney scowled. “Then you could have called _us_ back. We’re part of his team.”

 

“You had obligations to the Athosians,” Elizabeth pointed out. “You know that, Rodney. I only called you back now because you should be the one to install the ZPM.”

 

Rodney waved away her explanation. “You know Lorne’s honor-bound to follow whatever asinine orders John gives, and John is far too willing to sacrifice himself.”

 

“Major Lorne had orders from me to knock John out and drag him back to Atlantis if it appeared as though his life was in danger.” Elizabeth allowed a little heat to come into her eyes. “John is important to me, too. Surely you think better of me than that.”

 

Rodney scowled. “Fine. Carson said he’s not letting anyone see John right now.”

 

“Not until John wakes up. I’m sure Carson will let you know.”

 

“He said he would.”

 

“The ZPM is with Zelenka,” Elizabeth replied. 

 

“Headed that way now,” Rodney replied with an offhanded wave, although Elizabeth didn’t believe for a second that she’d heard the last of this. Rodney had a tendency to hold grudges.

 

Elizabeth busied herself with paperwork while waiting for Carson’s call, surprised and pleased when Lorne’s report appeared in her email inbox. Lorne detailed the ritual with spare, dry prose, although he glossed over the effects of the narcotic by saying, “What the Ebrus called the ‘Cup of Understanding’ seems to act like sodium pentothal. Colonel Sheppard was more talkative than usual while under its influence.”

 

She smiled at that, appreciating Lorne’s discretion, but having read Lorne’s report, she was grateful when Carson called to let her know that John was awake. Rodney was already there when she arrived.

 

She had been a little concerned that her decision would cause more problems between John and Rodney, whose friendship seemed to be a little rocky of late. As soon as Elizabeth entered the infirmary, she spotted Rodney sitting in a chair next to Sheppard’s bed, was talking in a low voice. His hand was on John’s shoulder, and John wore a half-smile.

 

“How is he?” Elizabeth asked once Carson had pulled her aside.

 

Carson shook his head. “Kate should be joining us in a moment. I asked her to have a quick chat with the colonel and Major Lorne.”

 

Elizabeth followed Carson into his office. “How are we doing with medical supplies?” she asked, deciding that they could get some business taken care of while they waited.

 

Carson sighed. “We’re low on sutures. We were scheduled to get more with the next _Daedalus_ run, but that’s clearly out of the question. Anti-inflammatories are going to be a problem sooner, rather than later. Half the expedition is taking them at any given point in time.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ll let Kate finish the report.”

 

Elizabeth didn’t have to wait for long. Kate Heightmeyer joined them only a few minutes later, slipping inside as the door closed behind her with only a whisper of sound.

 

“Carson?” Elizabeth prompted. “What about Colonel Sheppard?”

 

Carson cleared his throat. “The narcotic is metabolizing remarkably fast, and he’s suffering no ill-effects, other than a bit of embarrassment as to what he said while under the influence, and some cuts on his feet.”

 

Elizabeth let out a breath. “I know you said he’d be fine, but—”

 

“Physically, he’s in one piece, but I wanted Kate to check on him.” Carson glanced over at their resident psychologist.

 

Kate smiled wryly. “According to Colonel Sheppard, he’s just fine, and everyone needs to stop worrying about him.”

 

“Is he fine?” Elizabeth asked.

 

Kate shrugged. “I’m going to want a follow-up visit, although I’d actually like to see everyone on Atlantis at least once, just to make sure there aren’t any problems that need addressing before becoming too explosive. I’ll probably need an order from you.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Elizabeth said readily, and then asked, “Did you see Rodney?”

 

“Oh, aye,” Carson said ruefully. “I believe the only person he _didn’t_ accuse of being a moron was Colonel Sheppard.”

 

Elizabeth’s eyebrows went up. “Really? I would have expected the opposite.”

 

“Something about how Colonel Sheppard couldn’t help being a martyr, and that he expected the rest of us to pull him back from the brink,” Kate said with a smile. “It probably helped that you’d given Major Lorne orders to drag John back to Atlantis in one piece, whether he wanted to come or not.”

 

“That was purely self-defense,” Elizabeth confessed.

 

Carson and Kate both smiled. “I can understand why,” Carson said. “Kate, before you arrived, we were discussing shortages.”

 

Kate’s expression grew a little grimmer. “Ah, yes. We’re desperately low on both anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication, Elizabeth. We should try to find substitutes as soon as we can.”

 

“Is it really necessary?” Elizabeth asked.

 

“The people on this expedition have remarkably hardy personalities,” Kate replied. “That’s why they were chosen. But the current circumstances represent a significant challenge, one that few were prepared to face. There will obviously be a period of adjustment, and having those medications will make a huge different in long-term outcomes.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Carson?”

 

“I’ve already spoken to the botanists and the chemists,” he assured her. “They’re working on it.”

 

“That’s all we can do, then. Thank you.”

 

Elizabeth took a deep breath as she left the infirmary. The news wasn’t unexpected; she’d come close to a panic attack over the last few weeks any number of times, and she’d made a career out of staying calm and helping others do the same as they solved seemingly insurmountable problems.

 

But this—this was different. This was a whole new world.

 

~~~~~

 

Teyla had to admit that some of her pleasure at being with her people again had dimmed with the news that John had gone through the Ebrus’ ritual alone.

 

No, not alone, she reminded herself yet again. Major Lorne had been with him.

 

She knew that John thought of himself as a solitary individual, still not quite trusting that his team would come for him. And perhaps he’d had some reason to undertake this task alone, particularly after Rodney’s vehement protests.

 

“You seem upset,” Halling said quietly as they surveyed the fields, the dark, loamy earth just beginning to be eclipsed by the bright green of new plants.

 

Teyla felt her mouth twist into a rueful smile. “Not upset, just—uncertain. John undertook a potentially dangerous mission without us.”

 

“Would you have done the same in his position?” Halling countered.

 

Teyla raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps. John is often too quick to put himself in danger, however.”

 

“Then he went alone?”

 

“Major Lorne accompanied him, and before you say it, the major is quite capable of looking out for John’s best interests.”

 

“I’m well aware that Colonel Sheppard is part of your family, Teyla,” Halling said mildly.

 

Teyla turned away from the fields and back towards the village that had taken shape in the last year. Her people were semi-nomadic, but it appeared that they would put down roots here on New Athos, at least for a time. With the closer relationship to Atlantis, her people had the opportunity to thrive here.

 

“If the growing season continues as well as it has begun, our harvest will be bigger than any we’ve had in the past,” she observed.

 

Halling allowed the change of subject with a knowing smile. “I agree. Laro will be staying on Atlantis for a time.”

 

“I’ve always found Atlantis inspiring,” Teyla replied. “Perhaps Laro will feel similarly.”

 

“Inspiration can be found many places, and in many people.” Halling began to stroll through the village, towards his tent, shortening his stride in consideration of Teyla’s shorter legs. “It has been good to have you here these last two weeks, Teyla. We have missed you.”

 

Teyla felt a pang of guilt, although she knew Halling had not intended to engender that response. “I have missed you, too. I’m thankful for this time.”

 

“And I know you will return when you can,” Halling said. “I also know that the guides we sent to Atlantis will benefit from your leadership and counsel.”

 

Teyla smiled. “Perhaps as time goes on, the Lanteans will send more people here to stay.”

 

“They would be welcome,” Halling said.

 

“Father!” Jinto came pelting towards them, his eyes wide and fearful. “There’s been an accident!”

 

Teyla glanced over at Halling, and they both began to run, following Jinto as he raced back the way he’d come. Jinto, although young, was not given to exaggeration.

 

Children in Pegasus grew up quickly. Teyla had been amazed when she’d watched some of the movies the Lanteans had brought from Earth; their children seemed so sheltered.

 

When she and Halling skidded to a halt, Teyla saw Kanaan lying on a stretcher, his face pale and sweaty. His right thigh was heavily bandaged, but blood still seeped through.

 

“What happened here?” Halling demanded.

 

“There was an accident while we were hunting,” Senar explained. “One of the young men set up a blind without checking with me.”

 

It was a grave breach of protocol, as Teyla knew. Senar coordinated all of the hunts to avoid exactly this situation.

 

Teyla knelt down next to Kanaan, putting a hand on his forehead. “This is a serious wound, Halling. They will be able to do more for him on Atlantis.”

 

“I will get the Lanteans,” Jinto offered, darting off before anyone spoke.

 

“Get Ronon!” Teyla called after him.

 

Marie, one of the nurses from Atlantis, pushed her way through the crowd, carrying a first aid kit. “I came as soon as I could,” she said a little breathlessly. “Lieutenant Corwin can fly us back.”

 

“Do you hear that, Kanaan?” Teyla asked. “You’ll be just fine.”

 

“Who was it?” Halling asked in a low voice.

 

Senar sighed. “Wex, but your son was with him, Halling.”

 

“I will speak with both of them.” Halling shook his head grimly. “Teyla, will you go back to Atlantis now?”

 

“I will stay with Kanaan,” Teyla replied. “I was not due to return to Atlantis for two days, but I have known Kanaan for a long time, and I’m sure he would like to see a friendly face.”

 

Ronon pushed his way through the crowd. “Jumper’s ready,” he said. “I’ll get the head if you’ll take the feet, Halling.”

 

The two men easily hefted the stretcher between the two of them. “He should be fine until you get to Atlantis,” Marie said, jogging along next to Teyla. “I’ll radio ahead and let them know to expect you. Since he hasn’t bled out yet, I doubt whatever it was nicked an artery.”

 

“Senar, what were the boys using?”

 

“Bows and arrows,” Senar replied. “I broke off the shaft close to the leg. We didn’t want to remove it out in the field.”

 

“You did exactly the right thing,” Marie assured him. “Dr. Beckett will take care of him.”

 

Senar nodded. “I have no doubt.”

 

Corwin started up the jumper and closed up the hatch, and then they were on their way.

 

~~~~~

 

John hadn’t been looking forward to Rodney reading him the riot act, so he was pleasantly surprised when all Rodney did was put his hands on his hips, fix John with his best glare, and say, “You’re an idiot. Do you know that?” before pulling up a chair next to his bed.

 

“It’s been said,” John had admitted.

 

“You know, I expect you to throw yourself in harm’s way,” Rodney had said. “I’m disappointed that Elizabeth seems to be incapable of stopping you, though.”

 

“Lorne would have dragged my ass back to Atlantis,” John had replied.

 

Rodney had huffed, and then he’d patted John awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m glad you came through in one piece.”

 

“Thanks,” John said. “I hope it was worth it.”

 

Rodney grinned. “It’s more than half-full. Closer to three-quarters, actually. We’re in good shape, John. Don’t go off on your own again, but—you did good.”

 

Rodney squeezed John’s shoulder, and John was momentarily struck dumb by Rodney’s words and gesture. Rodney had smiled and released him, leaving an imprint of warmth on John’s shoulder.

 

“So, I’ll probably be busy for the next couple of days, but come by the lab anyway,” Rodney ordered. “I have to eat sometime, right?”

 

And that had been that.

 

Carson had released John from the infirmary an hour later with orders to take things easy for a couple of days, and John had limped back to his room. His feet were bruised and scraped from walking barefoot to the temple, but he was otherwise unscathed.

 

Physically, anyway. John didn’t _feel_ unscathed. He kept remembering what he’d said to Lorne, _all_ the things he’d said to Lorne. Somehow, telling Lorne that he was in love with McKay made his feelings harder to ignore, particularly coupled with Rodney’s words and actions in the infirmary.

 

His nerves were raw and unsettled, and he had no idea what to do about it.

 

When his radio squawked, John nearly jumped out of his skin, and he muttered, “You’re losing it, Shep. Get the fuck over yourself.”

 

He tapped the radio and said, “Sheppard.”

 

“John, Teyla and Ronon just came back with one of the Athosians. He was badly injured in a hunting accident.”

 

“Do I need to be there?” John asked.

 

Elizabeth hesitated, but then said, “No. I just thought you might want to know.”

 

“I appreciate it,” John said. “I’m still a little tired, so if you don’t need me…”

 

“Get some rest,” Elizabeth replied. “Maybe I’ll see you at dinner.”

 

“Sounds good.” John tried to inject his voice with a cheer he didn’t feel.

 

He showered and changed into a clean uniform, noting that it was his last one. He’d have to get them cleaned, and he’d have to mend the two that were torn.

 

Guilt compelled him to head down to the infirmary after that, though, and he found Teyla and Ronon waiting for word on the injured man. He approached slowly, feeling sheepish and a little ashamed of himself. He knew he probably should have waited for his team.

 

Teyla closed the remaining distance between them and put her hands on his shoulders, pulling his forehead down to hers. “Next time, you should wait for us.”

 

“Next time, I will,” he promised.

 

Teyla stepped back with a nod as though that settled matters, and maybe it did.

 

John glanced at Ronon to see his reaction, and Ronon shrugged. “Just be glad you came back in one piece, Sheppard. I’d have to kick your ass.”

 

“Understood.” John grinned. “Rodney’s in heaven, though. We got a ZPM. Preliminary reports indicate it’s more than half full.”

 

Teyla smiled. “That is good news, John.”

 

“We’re going to need the power,” John said. “We’ve got plenty of enemies. I’m surprised we haven’t had the Wraith beating down our door.”

 

“Or the Genii,” Ronon rumbled. “I haven’t forgotten.”

 

“Yeah, me neither.”

 

Carson came out into the waiting area. “Teyla? Kanaan is going to be just fine. He’s going to be sore for a while, and he’ll need to stay off his leg, but he’ll make a full recovery.”

 

John saw the relief wash over Teyla’s face. “Good,” she said, her voice holding steady. “I am glad.”

 

“John?” Elizabeth’s voice came over the radio. “We have a transmission—it’s from one of the SGC teams—SG-1.”

 

John blinked. “SG-1? Where are they?”

 

“A planet on the edge of Pegasus. But Colonel Mitchell is badly injured, and Colonel Carter said they have a shipment of weapons for us,” Elizabeth added. “We’ll need a medical team.”

 

“I’m on my way,” John replied. “Carson? Get a team together.”

 

Carson tapped his radio. “Elizabeth? Tell me exactly what they said when they called in.” He glanced at John distractedly. “I’ll be in the gate room as soon as I can.”

 

“No more than ten minutes,” John warned. “Sooner if you can. Ronon? You up for a little field trip?”

 

“I’m always up for a field trip,” Ronon replied.

 

John glanced at Teyla, who appeared torn. “John—”

 

“Stay with your friend,” he said gently. “He’ll probably be grateful for a familiar face when he comes to.”

 

Teyla took a deep, audible breath. “Thank you.”

 

“See you soon,” John promised, and then he and Ronon took off for the jumper bay. He limped as he ran, but he pushed through the pain.

 

John tapped his radio as he finished getting his gear together. “Rodney, I may be a little late for dinner.”

 

“Oh, what is it now?” Rodney grumbled.

 

John felt a grin stretch his lips. “We’re going to rescue SG-1.”

 

“Oh, well, then. Good luck!” Rodney said brightly. “But, um, do you need me?”

 

John laughed. “I think we got it covered, buddy, but I’ll let you know. Go play with your ZPM.”

 

They had survivors to rescue.


	11. New Arrivals

_“We were so close when Cam got bitten by that scorpion, and to lose him then would have taken the heart right out of us. We’d lost a lot—Earth, Jack, our homes, our families. We’d always been close; most teams at the SGC were. When you get shot at as often as we did, your team_ becomes _your family. We couldn’t lose him; that’s all there was to it.”_

 

~Interview with Daniel Jackson

 

Sam watched the wormhole whoosh to life and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.” She quickly sent her IDC and waited for confirmation, sparing a quick look over her shoulder at the ship. Daniel and Vala were inside with Cam, doing everything they could to keep his fever down, and prevent him from hurting himself in his delirious state.

 

His arm had swollen to twice its normal size, and nothing they’d done had made a difference. If he didn’t get help soon, Sam knew they were going to lose him.

 

“Come on, come on,” Sam muttered, doubts suddenly plaguing her. What if the Wraith had managed to defeat Atlantis? What if it had already fallen? What the fuck would they do then?

 

She activated her radio. “Atlantis, come in. Is anyone there?”

 

“This is Dr. Weir on Atlantis,” came the response.

 

Sam blew out a breath. “Dr. Weir, this is Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, along with Dr. Jackson, Vala Mal Doran, and Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell. I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a bind.”

 

“It’s good to hear your voice, Colonel Carter,” Weir responded warmly. “What’s your status?”

 

“We’re on a planet at the edge of the Pegasus Galaxy, and I’ve spent the last day and a half trying to get the DHD up and running. Cam was bitten by something soon after we arrived, and he’s seriously ill. If he doesn’t get help soon, I’m not sure—” Her voice broke.

 

Dr. Weir’s tone softened. “Of course. We have your location, and I’m scrambling a team right now. I’m sure you understand why we can’t allow you through the gate until we’re certain of your identity.”

 

Sam swallowed her irritation and her impatience, knowing that Dr. Weir had an entire city to protect. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d discovered Colonel Caldwell had a Goa’uld inside him. “Do you have a fast way to check for Goa’ulds?”

 

“We do,” Dr. Weir replied. “We’ll send a medical team for Colonel Mitchell.”

 

“The hyperdrive engine in our ship is down, but we have a cache of weapons,” Sam said.

 

“I’ll let Colonel Sheppard know. We’ll send a team as soon as possible,” Dr. Weir promised.

 

Sam bit back her first, frustrated reply, and managed to say, “Thank you.”

 

She shut the wormhole down and cursed with a creativity that would have impressed Jack had he been there as she entered the ship.

 

“What happened?” Daniel demanded, rising from his position next to Cam. “They wouldn’t drop the shield?”

 

“They need to be sure we’re not Goa’ulds,” Sam said wearily. “They’re sending a team, including medical support.”

 

Daniel frowned. “Cam might not have that long! Didn’t you tell them that?”

 

“They have 200 people to worry about, Daniel,” Sam replied shortly. “Dr. Weir can’t take the risk, especially not after what happened with Colonel Caldwell. We’ll just have to be thankful for what we’ve got.”

 

“Thankful?” Daniel demanded. “Don’t they know—”

 

“I would have done the same thing!” Sam burst out. And that was the worst thing, knowing that she would have left a team stranded, even if someone might be dying. “And yes, they know.”

 

“Daniel.” Vala rose from her position next to Cam and put a hand on Daniel’s arm.

 

He shrugged off her touch. “I just can’t believe they’d leave us here.”

 

“They aren’t leaving us. They’re sending a team.” Sam looked down at Cam’s prone form. He was moving around less now, his face flushed and sweating, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids. “I should wait for them by the gate. Look after Cam.”

 

She stepped back outside, her eyes gritty from the dust in the air and suppressed tears. Sam knew that her emotional state had more to do with lack of decent food and almost two days without sleep than anything else. They were all tired and hungry, having spent the last week on short rations.

 

No privacy, no chance to get clean, uncertainty about their future and the situation on Earth…

 

It was no wonder that tempers were so short.

 

The wormhole burst into life in front of her, and Sam was impressed at how quickly Dr. Weir’s people had moved.

 

Sam recognized Colonel Sheppard from one or two brief meetings around the SGC the last time he’d been on Earth. He had a hand resting casually on the P-90 clipped to his vest, but he smiled when he saw her.

 

“Colonel Carter. Good to see you in one piece.” His eyes went to the bandage still wrapped around her thigh. “Relatively speaking.”

 

“It’s all relative,” Sam responded. She watched as a tall man with dreadlocks stepped through the gate, followed closely by several people hauling medical equipment, and finally—“Major Lorne!”

 

“Good to see you, Colonel Carter,” Lorne replied with an easy smile. “We’re going to get you up and running in no time.”

 

“Colonel Mitchell is inside the ship,” Sam replied. “He’s the one who’s hurt.”

 

“Dr. Beckett, see what you can do,” John said, managing to make it sound like more of a suggestion than an order. “Let’s get these folks back to Atlantis ASAP.”

 

“Of course,” Dr. Beckett replied, his thick Scottish brogue somehow comforting. “Won’t take but a few minutes to scan them for Goa’ulds, and then I want all of them in the infirmary.”

 

“Sit down before you fall down, Colonel Carter,” Sheppard said, putting a gentle hand under her elbow. “We’re going to get you out of here as soon as we can.”

 

Sam allowed Sheppard to help her sit in the narrow shadow of the ship. “I’m okay, really.”

 

“You’re running on fumes,” Sheppard corrected her. “You can stand down, Colonel. Lorne?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Lorne hunched down next to her, digging around in his pocket and handing her a Power Bar. “You look like you could use a few good meals.”

 

“We were running out of food,” Sam admitted. “No, we pretty much are out of food, and we’re really low on water.”

 

Dr. Beckett emerged from the vessel. “Colonel Mitchell is in a bad way, John. I want him back on Atlantis now.”

 

“Goa’ulds?”

 

“No sign of any,” Dr. Beckett said. “You can work the scanner just as well as I can.” He handed it to Sheppard. “Just run it over the back of their necks. The presence of a Goa’uld will set off an alarm.”

 

“All right. We’ll be right behind you,” Sheppard promised. “Ronon? Help Carson get Colonel Mitchell through the gate.”

 

Ronon—the big guy with dreadlocks—nodded, although he seemed a little dubious. “You sure?”

 

“I’ll be fine.” John waved off his concern. “I’m going to be right behind you. Put your head down, Colonel Carter.”

 

She submitted to the exam, which was by far the least intrusive one she’d ever experienced. Sheppard waved the wand of the scanner over the back of her neck, pronounced her free of Goa’ulds, and then did the same for Daniel and Vala.

 

Sam noted that they were looking as shell-shocked as she felt. The adrenaline that had kept them moving was wearing off, and they were all crashing in a big way. Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard were in charge on Atlantis, which meant that Sam _wasn’t_.

 

Lorne took the half-eaten Power Bar out of her hand. “Let’s get you to the infirmary before Dr. Beckett has our hides,” he said quietly, helping her up and putting an arm around her waist to steady her.

 

Sheppard was doing the same thing for Daniel, Sam realized, and there was a woman helping Vala, also in Atlantis’ black BDUs.

 

And then the world tilted, spun, and went black.

 

~~~~~

 

Lorne’s shout of surprise had Daniel twisting away from Sheppard’s support and lunging towards Sam, who had gone boneless and pliant in Lorne’s arms. “Sam!”

 

“Easy,” Sheppard said, hanging onto Daniel with grim determination. “Lorne? You got her?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Lorne replied. He managed to maneuver Sam so that he could get her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

 

Daniel struggled against Sheppard’s hold, but the other man held him back easily. “I know you want to go to her, but the best thing for everybody concerned is getting all of you to the infirmary. Lorne! Get going!”

 

Daniel stopped struggling, feeling as though his limbs were lead weights. “Okay. I’m okay.”

 

“Sure you are,” Sheppard replied. “Cadman? You good?”

 

“Five by five, sir,” the Marine replied.

 

“Go on.” Sheppard was on Cadman’s heels, and they stepped through the gate. The disorientation was familiar, but it magnified the dizziness that Daniel had already been experiencing.

 

“Get me a stretcher over here!” Sheppard shouted as soon as they were through.

 

Daniel shook his head. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re shaking,” Sheppard replied. “You’ve had a rough go of it. Just relax and let us do our jobs, Dr. Jackson.”

 

“Daniel,” he said, not offering any further arguments as the stretcher rolled up next to them.

 

Sheppard helped him lie down and patted his shoulder. “Call me John. Hang tight. We’re going to take good care of you.”

 

The next hours were a blur. Daniel allowed the infirmary staff to do their jobs without putting up a fight. He didn’t have the energy to protest anyway. The nurses helped him out of his dirty clothing and into a clean set of scrubs. He submitted to the poking and prodding as they put him on an IV and took blood samples.

 

One of the orderlies brought Daniel a cup of soup, which he sipped cautiously. It was simple, little more than broth and vegetables, but it was delicious. Daniel hadn’t had a hot meal in what felt like a long time.

 

His hands trembled a bit as he lifted the cup, but he managed not to spill it. He didn’t want to lose any of it; he wanted to savor every drop.

 

From his cot, he could see Vala, who appeared to be sleeping curled up on her side, and Sam, who was still pale and unconscious. There wasn’t any activity around their beds, though, and Daniel knew that was a good sign. But he couldn’t see Cam, and that worried him.

 

When a nurse passed by, Daniel called out to her. “Is Colonel Mitchell okay? He came through the gate just ahead of me.”

 

“Dr. Beckett is still working on him,” the nurse replied, patting him on the shoulder. “Colonel Carter and Ms. Mal Doran are resting comfortably, however.”

 

Daniel managed a smile. “Thanks.”

 

“Get some sleep, Dr. Jackson.” The nurse smiled at him. “Just relax. You’re safe now.”

 

Daniel didn’t _feel_ safe, but that was natural. He knew that the longer someone was in a war zone, the longer he or she was fighting, the harder it was to come down from that adrenaline high. He’d experienced it before while with SG-1, and it was just as true now.

 

He was still awake when Dr. Weir entered the infirmary, and she immediately came over to see him. “Dr. Jackson. How are you feeling?”

 

“I’m okay,” he said. “Do you know anything about Cam?”

 

“Colonel Mitchell is in stable condition,” Dr. Weir assured him. “Dr. Beckett tells me that he’s responding to the anti-venom treatments.”

 

Daniel frowned. That seemed a little evasive. “Dr. Weir—”

 

“Call me Elizabeth.”

 

Daniel smiled perfunctorily at the courtesy. “Call me Daniel. You know, that doesn’t give me much information.”

 

Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but Dr. Beckett doesn’t know much more than that. He isn’t sure he can save Colonel Mitchell’s hand.”

 

Daniel felt a chill. “He could lose his hand?”

 

“Dr. Beckett is doing everything he can to prevent that,” Elizabeth assured him. “We’re all doing everything we can.”

 

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just—”

 

“It’s a lot,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Try to sleep.”

 

“I don’t think I can,” Daniel confessed.

 

Elizabeth waved one of the nurses over. “Let Dr. Beckett know that Dr. Jackson needs some help sleeping.”

 

“Of course, Dr. Weir,” the nurse replied.

 

Daniel frowned. “Elizabeth…”

 

“Let the rest of us keep an eye out for you,” Elizabeth replied.

 

She glanced over as Dr. Beckett approached. “What’s this now?” he asked briskly.

 

“Daniel can’t sleep.”

 

Dr. Beckett fixed Daniel with a look that was both penetrating and gentle. “Being in the middle of a warzone will do that to a person. You need your sleep, Dr. Jackson.” He called a nurse over and whispered a few words.

 

Daniel had enough experience in an infirmary to know what was coming next. “I don’t need a sedative,” he protested.

 

“Son, you need to sleep,” Dr. Beckett replied. “If you can’t fall asleep on your own, I can knock you out, but those are your choices.”

 

Daniel knew better than to argue with a doctor using _that_ particular tone, but he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, no matter how exhausted he might be.

 

“I just can’t seem to relax,” Daniel finally admitted.

 

“We can fix that,” Dr. Beckett replied, taking the syringe the nurse handed him. He injected the medication into the IV port.

 

Daniel felt the familiar lassitude spread through his limbs. “Wake me up if there’s any change in Cam’s condition.”

 

Dr. Beckett patted him on the shoulder. “Relax. We’ll let you know if anything changes.”

 

Daniel slept, but his dreams were vivid and fractured, full of stinging insects and flames and crashing ships. When he woke up, the infirmary’s lights were dimmed, and there weren’t many people around. His head still felt fuzzy, his thoughts were sluggish. When he rolled his head, he could see that Sam was still unconscious. She had some color in her face now, and the doctors had removed the IV. He looked in the other direction and saw Vala in much the same condition.

 

Daniel didn’t see Cam anywhere, though, and he struggled to sit up.

 

“Easy, Dr. Jackson.” A woman wearing a tan Atlantis uniform with yellow panels pushed Daniel back on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired,” he admitted.

 

“I’ll bet. I’m Dr. Biro,” she said. “I’m filling in for Dr. Beckett overnight.”

 

“What about Colonel Mitchell?” Daniel asked urgently. “How is he?”

 

“He’s stable.”

 

“And his arm?” Daniel pressed.

 

Biro smiled tightly. “We’re still waiting to see if the treatment was successful.”

 

“Where is he?” Daniel asked.

 

“He’s being kept in an isolation room, and we’re monitoring him closely. And before you ask, you can see him in the morning.”

 

Daniel wanted to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. “Sam and Vala?”

 

“They’re resting comfortably, which is what you ought to be doing,” Biro replied. “Go back to sleep, Dr. Jackson.”

 

He fell asleep sooner than he’d anticipated, and this time he slept without dreaming—or at least without remembering his dreams.

 

When he woke again, the lights were bright, and both Sam and Vala were awake, sitting up, and eating what looked to be breakfast.

 

Vala was the first to notice that he was awake. “Daniel,” she said, warmth and relief in her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” he replied, realizing that it was true. He was starving, but other than that, he felt better than he had in weeks. “Cam?”

 

Vala’s mouth went tight at the corners as her smile grew a little more fixed. “Still no word.”

 

Daniel glanced over at Sam, who was staring down into her Jell-O cup as though it held the secrets of the universe. He knew the signs; things looked bad.

 

“Dr. Jackson.” Dr. Beckett appeared next to his bed. “I just sent the nurse to get your breakfast. We’ll keep it simple for now, so you don’t get sick, but I’m sure you’ll be glad to get some solid food in you again.”

 

“How’s Cam?” Daniel asked.

 

Dr. Beckett’s good cheer turned brittle in a moment. “We aren’t sure yet. He’s going to pull through, but there’s no way of knowing what lasting effects the venom might have.”

 

Daniel closed his eyes, trying to picture Cam—good-natured, goofy, ebullient Cam—permanently disabled.  Things had looked bad after Antarctica, too, but that had been a matter of near-fatal injuries. There had always been the possibility that Cam would walk again.

 

Re-growing a limb, though…

 

“We’re doing everything we can,” Dr. Beckett said softly. “And we’re not giving up hope. Now, as for your own injuries—”

 

Daniel listened with half an ear as Dr. Beckett gave him the rundown—his fractured wrist was healing, as were his cracked ribs; like the others, he had been malnourished and dehydrated, but there had been no lasting damage. All in all, they had come through remarkably unscathed.

 

He wanted to protest at that assessment; what happened to one member of the team happened to all of them. None of them had come through _unscathed_.

 

“Finish your breakfast, and then you can see Colonel Mitchell,” Dr. Beckett promised. “But just one of you at a time.”

 

“I’m done eating,” Sam said.

 

Dr. Beckett gave her tray—with its single piece of toast and an empty plastic cup—and nodded. “Very well, then, Colonel. You’re up first.”

 

When Dr. Beckett had led her away, Vala clambered off her bed and onto Daniel’s. “How are you really?” Vala asked quietly.

 

Daniel shook his head. “We shouldn’t have gone. We could have lasted a little longer without food. If we had—”

 

“We had no way of knowing that Sam could finish getting the DHD back in working order so soon,” Vala insisted. “It might have taken longer, and then we might have been too weak to hunt.”

 

“People have gone a long time without food,” Daniel insisted. “We could have—”

 

“We were low on water, too,” Vala shot back. “Daniel, you’re not at fault; none of us are. If you’re going to blame yourself, you might as well blame Cameron, or me, or Sam.”

 

Daniel couldn’t fault her logic, even though he wanted to. “I know. It’s just—”

 

“It feels as though we’ve failed,” Vala inserted quietly.

 

“Yeah, it does.” He blew out a breath and set that aside for the moment. “But we stayed alive, we made it to Atlantis, and the doctor said that Cam’s going to pull through. It’s more than we thought we’d get.”

 

Vala rested her head on his shoulder. “We have each other.”

 

Daniel looked into her eyes and thought of Sam and Jack, and how he’d felt when he’d lost Sha’re, and how loving someone could make a person stronger and weaker, all at once.

 

He thought about how thankful he was to be alive, and that Vala was alive, and that they had each other, and he felt a little guilty.

 

And then Daniel pushed that aside, too, and focused on Vala’s warm weight.

 

“Yeah, we do,” he agreed.

 

~~~~~

 

Jack woke up slowly, but the room started spinning as soon as he opened his eyes. “Easy,” Cassie warned him. “I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.”

 

“Feels like it,” Jack agreed, closing his eyes again. “Any other damage?”

 

“Broken ribs for sure,” Cassie said, putting a hand on his forehead. “Your kidneys are probably bruised, and you’ve got so many bruises, you look like you were run over by a truck.”

 

“I might as well have been,” Jack groaned.

 

“I don’t have much to give you for the pain. I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack assured her. “I’ve had worse.”

 

“Somehow I doubt that.”

 

“I was held by the Iraqis for four months,” Jack replied. “These guys were amateurs in comparison.”

 

“I’m glad you can joke about this.” Cassie sounded a little choked up, and Jack risked opening his eyes to check on her. “Jack, I’m not a doctor, and we don’t have access to any kind of real medical care. If there’s internal bleeding—”

 

“I’m not dying in the Trust’s hands, and I didn’t give them any information. That’s a victory.”

 

“That doesn’t feel like a victory,” Cassie objected.

 

“When you get to be my age, you take what you can get,” Jack said. “Where’s mini-me?”

 

“Flying. He said he missed it. Master Bra’tac and Teal’c are giving him pointers.”

 

“Lucky bastard,” Jack muttered. “How is it possible to be jealous of yourself?”

 

“You’re not really the same person,” Cassie pointed out. “Maybe you were when Loki first cloned him, but that was two years ago.”

 

Jack grunted. “We are the sum of our experiences, huh?”

 

“And a lot of other things, too,” Cassie agreed.

 

Jack closed his eyes again. “So, tell me the plan. You’ve got to have a plan.”

 

“We are going to a place Bra’tac knows to be safe,” Teal’c’s deep voice rumbled. “Where you will recover. From there, you can travel to Atlantis.”

 

Cassie stroked his forehead. “We’ve got a plan, Jack.”

 

“How did you find these two, Teal’c?”

 

“It’s a very long story,” Teal’c replied. “And you need to rest.”

 

Jack snorted. “I hurt too much to sleep.”

 

“Nevertheless, you must rest. I will tell you the story when you are awake enough to appreciate it.” Teal’c’s tone was implacable, and Jack knew that no amount of arguing would get him anywhere.

 

Jack cracked an eyelid. “Is it a good story, T?”

 

“It is the best kind of story, O’Neill,” he replied.

 

Jack closed his eyes, and in spite of the pain, quickly drifted off again.

 

~~~~~

 

Vala perched on the edge of the narrow bed, wondering if all the Ancients had been the size of small children, or if it had just been the prior occupant of this particular room. She couldn’t get Cameron’s pale, sweaty face out of her head. Seeing him that sick was a nightmare, worse than the ones that had woken her these last weeks.

 

When she’d been in that Goa’uld prison, she’d had the choice of how to respond. She’d spat in their faces, she’d fought like hell, and she’d called them every name in the book. As powerless as she might have felt then, it was nothing to how she’d felt watching Cam sweat and suffer and toss and turn.

 

He’d been delirious when she’d seen him, and all she could do was to run a hand along his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead.

 

It wasn’t nearly enough.

 

But once they’d all seen Cameron, the good doctor had chased them out, sending them to get cleaned up and get fresh clothes. He’d ordered them not to come back until the afternoon.

 

The knock on the door caused Vala to stiffen. “Come in,” she called.

 

She wasn’t quite used to the doors around here. The young Marine who had escorted them to their quarters had explained the doors, along with a comment about how when they’d first arrived, the doors hadn’t worked for anyone who hadn’t had the gene.

 

The door slid open and Daniel stepped inside and grimaced. “I think they gave you a kid’s room.”

 

“Is your bed bigger?” Vala asked. “And if so, do you mind sharing?”

 

“Yes, it’s bigger, and no, I don’t mind sharing.” Daniel sat down next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “You don’t want to sleep alone?”

 

“Strange place, new people,” Vala replied. “Nightmares.”

 

Daniel pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You want to go exploring?”

 

“Better than sitting here and thinking about Cameron,” Vala replied.

 

Vala threaded her arm through Daniel’s as they walked down the hallway. “I studied the plans for the city when I tried to come out here a year or so ago,” he said.

 

“So, you know where we’re going?”

 

“In theory,” Daniel replied, and then surprised her by chuckling.

 

“What?”

 

“I was headed to Atlantis when you hijacked me,” Daniel explained. “I never thought I’d be here with _you_.”

 

“You could have come before,” Vala said.

 

Daniel shook his head. “The timing was never right.”

 

“And the timing is right now?”

 

“Not even remotely,” Daniel murmured. “But I’m not sorry you’re here with me.”

 

Vala leaned against him. “Where are we going?”

 

“Let’s just explore.”

 

Vala craned her neck to look around. The corridors were wide and well lit, the architecture all lines and angles, and pleasing to Vala’s eye. She spotted a balcony, and tugged Daniel in that direction. “Let’s go sit outside.”

 

There was a bench outside, and they sat down. Daniel’s thigh and shoulder pressed close to hers as they looked out over the ocean. “It’s beautiful here.”

 

“It is,” he agreed.

 

“Where did Sam go?” Vala asked, a little ashamed that she hadn’t thought to ask before now. She’d been too grateful for some time alone with Daniel.

 

Daniel shrugged. “She said not to worry about her. Private Sloane said something about finding another ZPM. Sam probably went to bug McKay about it.”

 

“Knowing Sam, probably so. She wouldn’t be able to resist.” Vala smiled. “She does like her sources of power.”

 

The breeze off the ocean teased her hair, which Vala had left loose. She felt herself begin to fully relax for the first time in—well, in a while. They’d had that week on the planet she’d regarded as her safe haven, but there had been the specter of what came next.

 

At the moment, there was only _now_ ; there was only _here_. There was nothing they could do but wait and _be_.

 

The city shook under them, and Daniel and Vala exchanged a look. They headed back inside, and Vala looked around wildly to discover the source of the disturbance. A Marine ran past them, and Daniel shouted, “Where do we need to be, Lieutenant?”

 

“No big deal, sir,” she said in reply, slowing to a fast walk. “The colonel says it’s just the new ZPM initializing.”

 

“Then why are you running?” Vala asked.

 

The Marine grinned at her. “I’m late, ma’am. Sorry, gotta move.”

 

“I know what Dr. Beckett said,” Vala began. “But I think we should head back to the infirmary.”

 

“I agree.”

 

Daniel led her to the infirmary with nary a misstep, and Vala spared a moment to be impressed with his sense of direction—or his memory of the blueprints for the city.

 

No one in the infirmary seemed to be upset by the tremor, and Dr. Beckett greeted them at the door. “I thought I told you two not to come back until after lunch.”

 

“The city—” Daniel began.

 

Dr. Beckett held up a hand. “It’s nothing to worry about. The ZPM has woken up systems that had been shut down. Now, I’m afraid I must insist that you leave.”

 

“How is Cameron?” Vala asked.

 

Dr. Beckett’s expression softened. “No better or worse than he was a few hours ago.”

 

“Thanks,” Daniel replied.

 

They left the infirmary and stopped just outside the doors. “Where to now?” Vala asked.

 

“I don’t know.” Daniel’s expression was a little lost. “We could explore the city a little more.”

 

They continued to wander down hallways, passing people who obviously had something to do and somewhere to be. Vala hung onto Daniel, feeling as though they’d been set adrift.

 

“Maybe we should get some sleep,” Daniel suggested as they headed down the hallways towards their quarters. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still a little tired.”

 

She thought sleep might be just the ticket; if they were asleep, they didn’t have to think. “As long as we’re both in your bed.”

 

Daniel wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That sounds perfect.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Cam finally woke completely, he blinked up at the high ceiling. He still felt a little fuzzy, the memories floating back slowly.

 

He’d been bitten by something; he’d gotten sick. Cam vaguely recalled being carried through the gate, and he remembered a doctor telling him—

 

Cam swallowed hard and risked a look at his right hand. The doctor had said they were going to try to save it, but…

 

His lower arm was wrapped in gauze, and he couldn’t feel anything below the elbow, but it seemed to all be there.

 

“Ah, Colonel Mitchell.” Cam recognized the doctor as the one who’d been treating him. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired,” Cam replied, his throat sore and scratchy.

 

The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’ll bet. In case you don’t remember the introductions, I’m Carson Beckett.”

 

“How’s my team?” Cam asked. “Are they okay?”

 

“They’re fine,” Beckett assured him. “A little the worse for wear, but you’re the only one who suffered a serious injury.”

 

“My arm?” Cam asked, hating the way his voice broke a little bit.

 

Beckett’s expression was grave. “We need to talk about that.”

 

“It’s still there, isn’t it?” Cam asked.

 

“We saved the arm,” Beckett began, his voice very gentle. “But we had to excise a lot of tissue in order to prevent the necrosis from spreading any further. The venom caused some nerve damage as well.”

 

Cam swallowed hard. “So, I still have my arm, but I might not be able to use it again.”

 

“It’s too soon to tell how much mobility you’ll have,” Beckett corrected him.

 

“But I’m going to lose some mobility.”

 

“I think that’s inevitable.”

 

Cam stared at his gauze-wrapped hand. “I’m right handed.”

 

“I’m very sorry, lad.”

 

“No, it’s okay,” Cam said, trying to find some of that same enthusiasm that had seen him through a year of intensive physical therapy. He’d be okay. He’d learn how to use his left hand.

 

Beckett patted him on his left shoulder. “I’ll send one of the nurses in with a tray, and she’ll change your bandages. Right now, regular meals and plenty of sleep are the best things for you.”

 

“Absolutely, Doc. I’m a model patient.”

 

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Beckett said with a smile. “We don’t get a lot of model patients around here. Be sure to let someone know if you’re in pain. There’s to be no suffering in silence.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

The nurse brought a cup of broth and a couple pieces of toast, both of which were easily eaten with his left hand. When the nurse changed his bandages, Cam kept his eyes turned away. He’d had a buddy get bitten by a brown recluse before, and he’d seen necrotic tissue. He had no desire to lose the lunch he’d just eaten.

 

“Are you up for visitors, Colonel?” the nurse—Cara—asked.

 

Cam nodded. “Sure thing.”

 

Daniel and Vala filed into the room, Vala’s face breaking out into a bright smile. “Cameron! You’re looking much better.”

 

Cam grimaced. “Then I must have looked pretty bad.”

 

“We were worried about you,” Daniel said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired, but okay.” He followed Daniel’s gaze to his right arm. “I can’t feel anything from the elbow down. From what the doctor said, that’s probably a good thing. So, you guys want to fill me in on what’s been going on?”

 

Vala pulled up a chair next to Cam’s bed, and Daniel perched on the arm of the chair. Cam watched as Vala hooked an arm around Daniel’s waist to keep him in place. They looked comfortable together, and Cam was glad to see it.

 

There wasn’t much to the story—Sam had been right, and after a good cleaning, the DHD had worked. They’d spent the last couple of days on Atlantis, waiting to hear about Cam.

 

“So, where’s Sam?” he asked.

 

“They just installed a new ZPM,” Daniel explained. “You know Sam. As soon as she hears you’re awake, she’ll be here.”

 

Cam had waited outside enough hospital rooms to understand why Sam would need to retreat for a while. “No, it’s cool. I understand.”

 

“We’ll call her,” Daniel said. “She’d want to be here. Give me a minute.”

 

Daniel left the room, and Cam was left with Vala, who reached out and clasped his good hand. “You’re going to be fine,” Vala promised.

 

Cam looked away. “You know, if we were still on Earth, I’d get discharged for sure. I’d never fly again; I’d never go off-world.”

 

“That’s not the way the rest of the galaxy works, you know,” Vala said. “You don’t get to retire from the field of battle if you’re hurt. You just have to learn how to fight in a different way.”

 

That was probably the most comforting thing anyone could have said to him. “Thanks.”

 

“And we’re going to get through this. We’re a team.”

 

Cam squeezed her hand. “Yeah, we are.”

 

Daniel reentered the room and said, “Sam’s on her way. I think she’s been amusing herself by baiting McKay.”

 

“Isn’t McKay the one who hit on her repeatedly and got sent to Siberia?” Cam asked, remembering the name from one of the reports he’d read.

 

Daniel grinned. “Yeah, that’s him, although I don’t think he’s tried anything like that since then.”

 

“Scuttlebutt is that he has a thing for someone on Atlantis,” Sam said, poking her head in. “Hey, Cam.”

 

“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for the quick fix on the DHD.”

 

“I wasn’t going to leave you hanging.” Sam approached the bed and put a hand on Cam’s shin. Cam could feel the warmth of her hand through the blanket covering him. “You’ll be up and around in no time.”

 

Cam glanced at his hand. “For a certain value of ‘up and around.’”

 

Sam squeezed his leg. “You beat the odds once before.”

 

Cam forced a grin. “I did.”

 

There was an awkward silence where they all stared at each other, and Sam got that determined expression on her face that was so familiar. “Okay, so you want to hear what kind of systems came online when the new ZPM got plugged in?”

 

She began describing the underwater geothermal power structure, using large words that Cam couldn’t begin to interpret, and he went right to sleep with a smile on his face.

 

He woke again, and this time he opened his eyes to find an unknown man sitting next to the bed with a thick book in hand. The man glanced up with a smile as Cam shifted in bed. “Hey, you’re awake again.”

 

“Looks like,” Cam replied.

 

“I’m John Sheppard,” he said. “Just thought I’d stop by and say welcome to Atlantis.”

 

Cam managed a smile. “Thanks for the rescue.”

 

Sheppard shrugged. “Thanks for the weapons. Every little bit helps.”

 

“My pleasure.” Cam glanced away, staring at the bandages. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. “Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

 

“Carson’s going to offer you all a chance at the gene therapy. Assuming it takes, I’ll train you on the jumpers myself. We could always use another pilot.”

 

Cam looked up, startled. “Sheppard, a pilot needs two hands.”

 

“Not if you fly it with your brain.” Sheppard rose from his seat. “We’ll talk more when you’re on your feet again, Colonel.”

 

“Thanks,” Cam said.

 

“Just get better.” Sheppard fixed him with an inscrutable look. “We can’t afford to lose anybody.”

 

Cam nodded and felt something in his chest unknot, thinking about ships that he could control with his mind.


	12. Epilogue

_“Looking back, those first few weeks after we got the message from O’Neill were easy. We’d finally caught a break, you know? We used the time to solidify old alliances and make new ones, and to find a ZPM. By the time the shit_ really _hit the fan, we were in a position to meet the next set of challenges—including doing what we could for the folks back on Earth. But that’s another story entirely.”_

 

~Interview with John Sheppard

 

“I thought I’d find you out here.” Rodney took a seat next to John on the pier, his feet dangling over the edge. “Zelenka said that if we’re going to drink his hooch, he expects a detailed review.”

 

John glanced at the container, and did a double take when he recognized a beaker. “Is that safe?”

 

“No idea,” Rodney replied cheerfully. “But I made Zelenka try it first, and he’s not dead yet.”

 

John smirked. “Is this the stuff he and Lorne were drinking the other night?”

 

“The night after we got the ZPM in? Yeah, I think so.”

 

John took a sip, grimacing as the alcohol burned its way down his throat, but immediately he felt the warmth start up from the pit of his stomach. “Not bad.”

 

“It’s not beer, but it will do.”

 

“Reeves’ team said they think they’ve found some pretty decent beer, and they’re interested in trading for other kinds of alcohol.”

 

“The planet of the drunks?” Rodney asked, his wide mouth quirking into a grin.

 

“Better than the planet of the apes.” John took another sip, staring out over the ocean, hearing the water as it lapped up against the sides of Atlantis.

 

Rodney bumped his shoulder. “Are you okay? I know you’re Mr. Laconic, but this is a little ridiculous even for you.”

 

John sipped again. “I went to visit Colonel Mitchell this evening.”

 

“Sam said he’s probably not going to get much use out of that hand,” Rodney replied, his voice subdued.

 

John could hear the sympathy in Rodney’s voice, and he figured that Rodney _would_ understand. Rodney needed his hands as much as John did. “If we were still in contact with Earth, he’d be given a medical discharge and shipped home, but that’s not an option now.”

 

“Would he want that option?”

 

“I don’t know him well enough to say, but probably not.” John hitched a shoulder. “It’s just—it could happen to any of us.”

 

Rodney fixed him with a penetrating look, and sometimes John thought that Rodney could see right through him, could read him like a book. And sometimes John thought that Rodney was about as oblivious as they came.

 

“You mean, it could happen to _you_ ,” Rodney said.

 

John looked up at the moon. “Maybe.”

 

“Okay, first of all, we’re cut off from Earth, so even if it had happened to you, you wouldn’t get kicked off Atlantis. Second of all, we need your gene, and that’s not dependent on you having two working hands—or legs, for that matter.”

 

John smiled. “Good points.”

 

“And thirdly,” Rodney continued, barreling right over John, as usual. “Thirdly, I’d build you the best fucking prosthetic in two galaxies so you could go right on doing what you want to do.”

 

When John looked over, Rodney’s mouth was pressed in a thin line, with no sign of humor in his expression. John realized that he was dead serious, and he grinned. “You say the sweetest things, McKay.”

 

“I’m serious!” Rodney protested.

 

John reached out and squeezed the back of his neck. “I know you are.”

 

Some of the tension left Rodney’s shoulders, and he smiled tentatively at John. “Okay. Good.”

 

“Good,” John echoed, and he felt the grin stretch his lips. “Yeah, we are, buddy. For right now, we’re good.”


End file.
